Madness of Minerva
by DailyProphetEditor
Summary: Part One of the 'Wisdom and War Trilogy'. Dumbledore is dead. Minerva had to bury the love of her life. Now she realises Snape may not be a traitor after all, but what if no one believes her? HBP canon compliant, AU to DH.
1. Before the Funeral

**Before the Funeral**

There was but little light in the room, only the silvery moonlight and the few white candles along the walls struggled to keep the darkness at bay. Someone had decorated the chamber with white lilies.

They had put his body on a bier in the centre of the room and had covered it with beautiful purple velvet. Everything looked quite tasteful, but the atmosphere remained eerie and cold. It was a room of death.

Minerva McGonagall stopped in the doorway before entering the chamber. She surveyed the scene quietly.

Hagrid sat on a plain wooden chair beside Dumbledore's body. He looked surprisingly calm – but on a second glance, she noticed that his eyes were swollen and red and that he held a huge handkerchief clutched in his right hand. Certainly he had done his share of crying during the past few days.

Minerva remained standing in the door and watched the half-giant. She did not want to disturb Hagrid, but could not bring herself to leave the room again now that she had finally plucked up the courage to go there.

Torn between leaving and entering the room, she lingered at the doorway for a long while. The gamekeeper was so lost in thought that he did not notice her. From time to time, he shifted on the chair way too small for him. Nothing else happened. Minerva looked at the silvery pattern the moonlight painted on the floor and watched it wander as the time passed.

Eventually the gamekeeper stood up and stretched. Only when he turned around to the window he observed the tall woman standing in the entrance. Minerva nodded at him and entered with careful steps.

"Headmistress," he greeted her hoarsely.

"Hagrid," she replied gently.

For a moment, a sad little smile appeared on his face.

"I was sure I'd find you here, watching over him…"

Her voice trailed off and she slowly walked closer to the huge man.

Hagrid offered her his chair, but Minerva shook her head. She looked down at the body wrapped in purple velvet. She pressed her lips together into a thin line and concentrated on breathing evenly. She would not cry. Not now.

Staring at the body, she heard Hagrid walk away from her towards the window. Glad to have some privacy to re-gain her composure, Minerva tried to straighten up. She was here to say goodbye. After a minute, the lump in her throat seemed to have become a little smaller.

Bravely she raised her right hand and moved to touch the dead body, but in the last moment, she broke the motion off. This took more strength than she would have expected it to. She was not yet ready to let this man go. Whimpering like an injured animal, Minerva pressed her hand to her mouth instead. She hated herself for her weakness.

Minerva finally allowed herself to sit down on the wooden chair, she had the feeling that her knees would give in if she kept forcing herself to stand upright.

Hagrid had heard her, of course he had. He turned around again and came to stand behind her. With a slow, careful movement, he put his right hand on her left shoulder and squeezed it lightly.

Startled at first, Minerva looked up in surprise, but then she clutched his hand with her right. Her comradeship with Hagrid was a strange thing, but they were close in an uncommon way. They had known each other from their schooldays on, and even if they had never become intimate friends, their relationship was based on mutual respect. Although she was only two years older than him, Hagrid had always insisted on addressing her with a proper title – first 'Miss' and 'Head Girl', then 'Professor', and now 'Headmistress'.

Minerva, on the other hand, had always respected Hagrid's talent with animals, even if she often thought him irresponsible in many ways. Also, one thing that had always impressed her was that he had never given up – although blamed for a crime he had not committed and expelled from school, he had made his way in the wizarding world without the proper training for it.

To the bright, powerful Headmistress, it seemed both odd and perfectly right that they would comfort each other now that they had lost a common friend. But Minerva knew that she could not allow herself to rely too much on the half-giant. In these times when giants were again regarded as enemies, he would soon need her protection. She would have to take on that task along with many others Dumbledore had left her.

Minerva squeezed Hagrid's hand again, then she let go. Hagrid understood.

"I've said goodbye already," he said. "Yeh want to be alone with 'im?"

She nodded. Hagrid quickly let go of her shoulder and wiped his eyes with his big handkerchief again, then he walked to the door.

"I'll be in me hut if yeh need me," he awkwardly said before leaving.

She returned his look with a little smile. Both of them knew that she would not call on him, but both also know that he had meant it and that she appreciated the offer.

After Hagrid had left, Minerva stood up again and walked to the window, away from the body of the man who had meant so much to her. She watched the moon and the stars outside, wondering vaguely how anything could be that ridiculously beautiful on a sad night like this. This was her last night with the man she had loved.

Tomorrow morning, they would bury him. She would sit in the front row with all of the other teachers, and funeral guests from all over the world would tell her how sorry they were. But only very few of them would know what losing Dumbledore actually meant to her. They had always kept their relationship secret. She would not only bury her colleague and close friend, she would bury the love of her life.

Minerva rested her forehead against the cool glass. Unable to hold back her tears any longer, Minerva started weeping silently. She would never have cried in the presence of another person, but now, her façade of calm strength crumbled.

Albus Dumbledore had been important to every one of them, he had been their beacon of hope in this war. But they would learn to live with the loss – even Harry would. Minerva felt weak. She was not sure how _she_ would learn to live on, she only knew that she had to.

Biting her lip she tried to concentrate on the physical pain only. This was not a time to wonder what the future would hold. This was her moment to remember the happiness they had shared. She would not think of the future now, or of the horrible way Albus had died. She would not think of his murderer, who had once been her friend.

Minerva turned around again and looked at Albus's body shrouded with the dark fabric. No, she would not think of the bloody rotten traitor Severus Snape now. She would not think of her favorite student, her later friend, who had betrayed them in a way she would never have thought possible. She would now only think of Albus, his kind smile, his twinkling eyes, and his gentle voice.

She dabbed her eyes fiercely with her lace handkerchief and bit her lip again. She would not cry any more, no matter how desperate she felt.

Slowly, she approached the dead body and finally stood beside it. She would go through with this. Dreading what she would see, she eventually pulled the velvet cover away with shaking hands. Albus Dumbledore's head and shoulders became visible.

She felt her eyes water instantly, but blinked the tears away. Nothing would stop her now. With gentle fingers, she caressed the dead wizard's cheeks. Then she took out her handkerchief again and wiped the dirt off his face. Her gestures were slow and deliberate. Preparing the dead warriors for a dignified funeral had always been a task for the women, and she would see to it that her love would be buried in an appropriate fashion. She straightened out his hair and beard, and finally placed a soft kiss on his cold forehead.

His skin felt cold and waxen. This was not Albus any more, this was just a shell. Knowing this somehow made saying goodbye easier.

In the end, Minerva fished a small piece of jewelry out of the pocket of her robes. It was a small golden brooch, the Gryffindor lion with a sparkling red ruby for an eye. The ruby glittered darkly in the light of the flickering candles. She regarded the brooch fondly, then she took Dumbledore's right hand and carefully placed it there, closing his fingers around it.

"Take it, my love…" she whispered. "Take a part of me to where you are going – take a part of our story…"

She placed his hand beside his body again. It felt like moving the arm of a large doll. Then she took one last look at the body in front of her.

"You truly are gone," she mused. "And yet it feels as though you were still here."

Minerva covered the body with the velvet again and sat down in the chair next to the bier. For a long time, she did not move. The patch of moonlight on the floor wandered slowly. Minerva followed it with her eyes while she sat watch over the deceased. She thought about what she had said last.

It was true. Touching Dumbledore's body had made her realise that he was truly gone, and yet she clearly felt that she was not alone.

Wearily, she shook her head. She was overly tired, and terribly afraid of this future she would have to face alone. But she knew that Albus had not feared death. He would never have left any imprint of himself in this world. She would never meet his ghost.

Outside, it was beginning to dawn. A single bird fluttered by the window in the morning light. Minerva looked up. Feeling rigid and stiff from spending all night in that wooden chair, she got up slowly and walked to the window again. She opened it wide to let the cool morning breeze into the stuffy room.

Another bird started singing outside, greeting the summer day. Minerva smiled sadly. She returned to the body and placed her hand on the velvet one last time. Gently, she stroked the soft material.

"Goodbye, my love…"

Then she turned around resolutely. She wiped her face one last time, straightened out her robes and made sure that no strands had escaped the tight bun of her hair. She had regained her self-possession and would appear perfectly calm to anyone who might meet her in the corridors. No one would guess that she had spent the night crying by Albus's side.

Briskly she walked towards the door and was just about to leave the room when she heard the faintest sound behind her. Minerva turned on her heel and surveyed the room with her sharp eyes. She could detect nothing unusual, yet she was absolutely sure that she had just heard a person moving. Although she saw no one – no one alive, at least – the chamber did not feel deserted. She could sense a presence.

Minutes passed. Minerva had drawn her wand and waited, but nothing happened. The morning light grew brighter, the purple velvet hanging down from the bier. The fabric dragged on the floor, making an indistinct noise. Minerva exhaled slowly. So this was what she had heard. With her cat-like senses, she often picked up things other people did not notice – one of the reasons why she was able to spot students fooling around quicker than the other teachers.

She shrugged and relaxed. Then the new Hogwarts Headmistress turned around and left the room for good. She was ready for the tasks of the day to come.


	2. After the Wedding

After the wedding, Minerva sat down on a wooden bench in the back part of the Weasleys' garden. This was the first time that she visited The Burrow, a place much different than her own family estate. Both houses had been in the respective wizarding families for generations, but while McGonagall Manor was a typical Scottish castle full of family heirlooms and portraits of ancestors, the Weasley house was a place was where a family actually lived together. Minerva enjoyed being there.

From her quiet sitting place she took a look around in the garden. Quite a few people she knew had been invited – half of the Order of the Phoenix were there, and Madame Maxime had accompanied Fleur's family to England. She had insisted that this wedding was, in a way, a Beauxbatons-Hogwarts wedding and thus an auspicious omen in these bad times, but secretly Minerva suspected that Olympe Maxime had just sought an excuse to come and see Hagrid. Momentarily the two half-giants sat together in a distant part of the garden, sharing tea they drank out of cups way too small for them.

The ceremony had been held in the garden. Everything was decorated with bright coloured garlands, and the twins had announced one of their famous fireworks for the evening. Friends and family now stood together, laughing and chattering. Fleur's younger cousins played under the tables together with some distantly related Weasley children – at their age, the language barrier was easy to overcome.

Ginny Weasley and Fleur's sister Gabrielle, both dressed in identical pale gold robes, had been the bridesmaids. Minerva smiled a little while she studied the two of them. Gabrielle, ten or maybe eleven years old, had the appearance of a little girl dressed up as an angel for a Christmas school play.

Ginny, on the other hand, looked stunningly pretty. Now sixteen years old, she had already turned into a young woman. She had twisted her hair in an elegant knot instead of wearing it open like she usually did, and the robes gave her a fairy-like appearance. The only feature not consistent with that fairy image was the way she knitted her brow every time she looked at Harry.

Harry Potter. Minerva sighed and started looking for him. Soon she spotted him and Ron helping Mrs Weasley with setting the tables. The young wizard did not look well. Although he looked happy enough for the moment, Minerva noticed dark rings under his eyes and he appeared much leaner than before.

Harry had told her after Dumbledore's funeral that he would not return to Hogwarts any more, but would go to Godric's Hollow instead and start looking for a way to defeat Voldemort. He had refused any help from the Order of the Phoenix.

From what Minerva knew Harry had set off on his quest immediately on his seventeenth birthday, accompanied only by Ron and Hermione. They had not even returned to The Burrow for Ginny's birthday on the previous Monday. Judging by Harry's disheartened appearance, he had not been hugely successful in the two and a half weeks that had passed since he had left the Dursleys.

"Ees zees seat taken?"

Minerva looked up in surprise. She had been so lost in thought that she had not noticed Fleur approaching.

"Do sit down, Mrs Weasley," she replied.

Fleur beamed when Minerva used her new name and sat down with a graceful movement. She spread the skirt of her silvery white wedding gown out and adjusted the golden tiara Bill's aunt had given her for the occasion.

"Merci, 'eadmistress."

The young bride smiled at Minerva. She did truly look very beautiful.

"Eet is so nice and quiet back 'ere in the garden. I really like zees place now that I 'ave become friends with Bill's family."

"Was is that hard? I've always thought the Weasleys were very friendly people."

"Non, eet was not that 'ard. The boys were very nice. I theenk only Ginny 'ad a bit of a problem with me, she was protective of 'er brother – and Molly of course did not want to let 'er son go so quickly."

"A typical motherly thing, I suppose," Minerva replied dryly.

Fleur grinned back at her. Then she grew more serious again.

"Zere ees something I wanted to tell you," she said. "I am very grateful zat you came to see us 'ere to-day. I theenk zis is a sad time for you. You 'ave lost a close friend."

"A very close friend…" Minerva repeated sadly. "Yes, dear, that is true. But I am glad I came here today. Albus used to say that the world needs a little more love – he would be so proud of you two."

"Ah, merci bientôt," Fleur smiled. "I am so glad you say zat. Some zought a wedding in times like zees was not appropriate."

"It is more than appropriate. For months, we have only heard of deaths and attacks… I hope this day will mark the beginning of many joyful years for you."

"Eet will, I am sure of zat."

Fleur leaned closer to Minerva.

"There ees something good going to 'appen soon. I am going to 'ave a baby, isn't zat wonderful?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Later in the evening, Minerva walked through the garden again, once more in search of Harry. She wanted to check on the young man and talk to him herself. Even if he did not want her help at the moment, she was absolutely certain that he would ultimately not succeed without the help of the Order of the Phoenix.

She found Harry sitting on exactly the same bench she had occupied earlier that day, but not alone. Ginny was with him.

Minerva steered away again and watched them from a little distance. Harry sat with his elbows resting on his knees, his head bent down. Ginny, sitting not too far away from him, appeared to be talking rapidly. Once she touched Harry's left elbow, but Harry pulled his arm away with a gentle movement and looked at her sadly.

Minerva turned away and went back to the house. She did not want to spy on that discussion.

In the Weasley house, she found the rooms downstairs almost deserted. Everyone was outside where the twins were preparing their grand fireworks. Only two of Fleur's elderly aunts sat on a sofa in the living room, leafing through an old photo album of the Weasley family. They seemed particularly interested to see what Bill had looked like before the werewolf attack.

"C'est très lamentable, n'est-ce pas? Il était un homme bel," one of them exclaimed, pointing at a picture that showed Bill in Egypt.

"Oui, quel dommage, quel dommage!" the other lady agreed. "Mais il l'aime, c'est le principal."

Minerva nodded in agreement. Certainly true love was more important than being handsome. One of the two old witches smiled at her.

"Comprenez-vous français, ma chère?" she asked.

"Juste un peu," Minerva admitted. Her French was not too good, and the two aunts spoke very fast.

"Mais c'est magnifique!" the French witch replied. "Me, I speek Eenglish very leettle only. May I introduce us? I am Colette, aunt of Fleur. And zees is my 'alf-sister, Mireille."

"Minerva McGonagall," Minerva introduced herself. "I was Bill's teacher in Hogwarts."

"Ah, we 'ave 'eard of you!" Mireille said happily. "Vous êtes la dame qui peut se transformer en chat, une Animagus! Bill nous a dit. A grey cat, non?"

"That's right, une chatte grise," Minerva confirmed while sitting down with the sisters. She never would have thought that her Animagus abilites were that famous.

"And you knew cher Bill at school, at zees 'ogwarts? – Zees name ees horrible for us!"

"Yes, he was an excellent student. He even became a prefect and later Head Boy."

"I theek there ees a picture of 'im at school, 'ere, look…"

Colette rapidly searched through the pages and finally found a picture that showed Bill and Charlie together after Charlie had won the Quidditch House Cup with the Gryffindor team. Charlie held the trophy up high, and Bill had his arm around his younger brother's shoulders. Some other students of the Quidditch team were also in the picture, dancing and shouting with joy.

Minerva even spotted herself in the background, wearing a Gryffindor scarf and standing next to Severus Snape. She cheered triumphantly while he shook her hand with a forced smile, wearing much the same expression he had displayed when in Harry's first year at Hogwarts Gryffindor had surprisingly won the House Championship.

"Ah, vous êtes là aussi. Et cet homme avec la cape noir, qui est-il?"

Colette pointed to Snape in the picture. With his ever black robes and his sombre expression, he seemed out of place in the company of all the cheering children.

"This man is Severus Snape," she explained to the two aunts. "He used to be Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House, we won the Cup against his team that day. And he…"

Minerva broke off. She did not want to talk about who or what else Snape was. Mireille patted her hand softly.

"Je regrette, Professeur. We 'ave 'eard of 'im, of course. I apologise, we did not want to speak of 'im."

"That's quite alright, you did not know," Minerva managed to say. She was proud to notice that her voice did not shake or betray emotion in any other way.

Colette slammed the photo album shut and placed it on the coffee table in front of them.

"Mireille, Professeur, let us go outside. I theek that zeese feux d'artifice that Fred and George 'ave prepared must be ready now. Let us celebrate to-day, not theenk of sad issues."

Mireille and Minerva got up from their seats and the three witches started going outside, but in the last moment Minerva excused herself and went back into the living room. She picked the photo album up again and looked through the pages containing school pictures of the Weasley children. There were only a few, and none of the others showed any teachers.

Minerva stared at the picture showing Snape and herself. She remembered the day well. The rivalry between their houses had always been a playful game between Snape and herself, a sport where they competed against each other knowing full well how ridiculous it was to put so much effort into something that was little more than a childish contest.

They had relentlessly teased each other about the issue and tried to push their own house ahead – Snape by favouring his own students, and Minerva by making sure that her students behaved so well that no one could possibly take points from them. And of course both of them had actively supported their Quidditch teams.

She had enjoyed their rivalling friendship – in fact, she had been proud of it. Snape had never much opened up to any of his fellow teachers. Of course Dumbledore had been close to him, but Minerva had been the only other staff member who had at times had the impression that he actually liked her. She had welcomed him back at school when he had renounced his dark past. Obviously she had been terribly wrong to do so.

'Bloody, rotten traitor,' she cursed him in her thoughts. 'You bastard, you foul-minded, evil liar…'

Snape in the photograph had crossed his arms again and looked around with a sour expression on his face. Minerva's photo image smiled and waved at Charlie and his team. Snape observed her unusually excited movements and the ghost of a smile appeared on his face, just hinting at genuine amusement.

Minerva froze while watching the scene in the picture. She had back then not noticed this tiny little change in his face, but she would not have been surprised to see it. He had always taunted her about becoming too emotional when Quidditch was involved. This smile Minerva now saw in the photograph was that of a true friend who knew her well and who only played his part in their amiable competition.

Minerva just could not understand how she and Albus could have been so wrong in their judgement. This tiny sparkle of delight that she had just seen in the expression of Snape's photographic image – it had looked so authentic, so true. Could anyone on earth be that good an actor and fake such amity for years? Had he truly been a secret Death Eater all those years, or, if he had not been, when had he turned back to Lord Voldemort? Judging from an emotional point of view, Minerva still could hardly believe that she had ever been mistaken about Snape's loyalty.

But his deeds were obvious. He was a traitor and a murderer, and they had simply been wrong to ever believe anything else. Now that Minerva looked at the image of the pale, lean wizard, all she could feel was deepest loathing and hatred. He had murdered the man she had loved, the man who had given her back her life after those dreadful events in her last school year…

Her fingernails scratched the photograph where Snape's face was. She wanted to erase every trace of this man, erase him from her memory and her heart.

"Professor McGonagall?"

Ginny Weasley's voice startled Minerva. She quickly put the album back onto the table and turned around to the young witch.

"Miss Weasley?"

Ginny came closer and casually glanced at the picture book. She frowned instantly.

"I wanted to rip that picture out of the album and throw it away, but Mum wouldn't let me. She said it's the only photo we have of Charlie in his Quidditch robes, and Bill and Charlie were so happy on that day…"

"I think your mother is right, Ginny," Minerva said somewhat sadly. "We cannot change the past by wiping out evidence of what once seemed true."

"I know."

Ginny shook her head and put the album back on the book shelf with resolute gestures.

"Professor, while everyone is outside watching the fireworks, I wondered if I could talk to you for a moment?"

"Certainly. What can I do for you?"

"It's about Harry…" Ginny bit her lip unconsciously. "I worry about him."

"So do I, Ginny. I watched him during the ceremony today. He does not look well."

"So I'm not the only one who thinks so." Ginny actually sounded relieved that someone shared her thoughts.

"I just had a long talk with Harry. He keeps telling me that he wants to go through with all this alone because he does not want to endanger anyone else. He feels guilty for – you know, for Dumbledore's death."

"It's quite remarkable how many of us blame themselves for that," Minerva said bitterly. "I, because I sent for Snape that night… Filius, because he did not duel Severus properly… And now Harry, too."

"That's right, Harry, too," Ginny confirmed equally bitter.

"He keeps telling me that he should have done something to prevent it, but you know, I don't think he could have. He never told me all the details of what happened on the tower. But… I don't know how to say it, he can't let go. He has nightmares about it."

Minerva looked at Ginny quizzically; after all she had assumed that the young couple had split up after the school-year had ended. Ginny caught her eye.

"Ron told me – they share a room here. And… once Harry screamed in his sleep so loud that I heard it in my room. I mean, look at him, it's easy to tell he hardly gets a good night's sleep."

"I see," Minerva replied quietly. "But what would you like me to do? How could I help him?"

"Talk to him. He keeps saying he cannot speak of that night, but I think he _wants_ to talk. He has to speak of it to make those dreams stop, and maybe you could break through these walls he's build up around himself."

Minerva closed her eyes for a second and wondered what to do.

Speak to Harry about Dumbledore's death... of course, she had to try. She would do anything to make Harry's task easier, and to help him open up. The boy needed the help of the Order of the Phoenix. But it would not be easy to hear about the details of Dumbledore's death and Snape's betrayal.

"I will try, Miss Weasley. Do not expect too much from me, but maybe you are right and Harry is ready to talk."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The two witches went outside together. Fred and George's brilliant fireworks illuminated the house and the garden – the twins had ingeniously worked out a way to ensure that no non-magical person could detect the beautifully sparkling lights. Absent-mindedly Minerva stopped for a second when she saw the two brothers standing next to each other, watching their work proudly. She was quite impressed with their talent for experimental and creative magic.

Ginny tugged at her sleeve impatiently and pointed to the back of the garden where Harry still was. Ron and Hermione were with him now, as well as Remus Lupin and Tonks. The five of them had sat down on the dry grass and watched the firecrackers explode above them. Minerva and Ginny joined them quickly; Ginny letting herself drop to the ground unceremoniously while Minerva carefully laid out her cloak as a blanked before she sat down on the grass.

Harry looked at Minerva without much surprise. He appeared unable to make up his mind whether to look annoyed or amused. Minerva smiled at him in what she hoped was an encouraging manner.

"Ginny said she'd go and fetch you," the young wizard said.

"You know I had to!" Ginny exclaimed hotly. "You cannot go on like this, please, Harry, do talk to us –"

"I cannot. I gave Dumbledore my word that I'd keep secret what we did that night, I've told you –"

"Harry," Tonks cut it, "listen, you know you can trust us. And we really want to help you. You don't need to tell us any secret stuff, just… you know, loosen up a bit. Something is bothering you –"

Harry interrupted Tonks with an impatient gesture of his hand. Minerva mustered him for a long while. Harry looked tired and worn out. It wasn't just the dark rings under his eyes or the fatigue showing even in the way he moved, but there was an air of desperation and helplessness that the young man radiated.

Suddenly Minerva was reminded of Snape again, when she had seen him just before he had left to re-join Voldemort's circle after the Triwizard Tournament. He had worn the same expression of stubborn determination mingled with the same suppressed trepidation and anxiety of a man who had to shoulder a task too big for him.

"Harry…" Minerva started quietly, "maybe we can make a deal. You don't have to tell us anything. I will tell you what I know, or what I think I know. There are only members of the Order of the Phoenix here, and your trusted friends. You don't even have to tell me if I'm right with what I have concluded. But maybe it will make you feel less alone."

Harry stared at her blankly, but then he nodded.

"Sounds fair," he said.

Minerva looked up at the fireworks again. It was difficult where to start.

"I know that Dumbledore told you all that he _knew_ by the end of your fifth year – which means that last year, during your private lessons with him, the two of you must have _speculated_ about what else we know about You-Know-Who. I think both of you must have collected information on him."

Minerva paused for a moment to wait for Harry's reaction. Surprisingly he nodded almost enthusiastically.

"During the last years," Minerva continued, "Professor Dumbledore and I have often wondered how You-Know-Who could have survived in this reduced form. There is only one way that I know of to avoid certain death – a Horcrux. We thought that maybe Tom Riddle's diary was a Horcrux."

"What is a Hor-" Ginny started, but Ron immediately interrupted her.

"Shut up, Ginny, I'll explain later!"

Meanwhile both Lupin and Tonks had gasped, they most obviously knew what Horcruxes were. Harry stared at Minerva, his expression not giving away anything – but he did not contradict her, either.

"Now, Harry, what I know is that you have gone back to your aunt and uncle until you turned seventeen. Then you went off on some mission you did not want to tell us about, only your two best friends joined you. It seems that there is something you want to do or have to do before you can finally confront You-Know-Who – which you are certainly planning to do at some point."

Again Harry did not reply. Minerva looked him directly in the eyes.

"You destroyed the diary years ago. Dumbledore went on a mission last year that almost killed him, and he left together with you on a mission equally dangerous. There is at least one Horcrux left, isn't there?"

Harry turned his gaze away from Minerva. The Headmistress held her breath while Harry stared at his hands, trying to make up his mind. She did not know how long they sat together in silence – most likely no more than a few seconds, but time seemed to have slowed down. Another bright firecracker exploded right above their heads, sending a shower of violet sparks raining down on them.

"Four," Harry finally whispered. "We thought there must be four left."

Minerva closed her eyes. Four Horcruxes left – and Harry had set himself the task to find and destroy them all by himself. No wonder the young man felt overworked.

"Who else knows about this?" she asked.

"Dumbledore said he'd told no one. I think there were some people he didn't trust, and some that he wanted to protect…" Harry replied pensively.

"But I think Snape must know part of it. I mean, he allegedly healed Dumbledore after he had destroyed the second Horcrux – and Slughorn hinted that he suspected something like that. I've told Ron and Hermione. And now you – " Harry pointed to the people sitting around him.

"Harry, you cannot possibly go after those Horcruxes alone," Lupin said decidedly. "We will help you, it is our job to do that."

"No."

Harry jerked his head up and shot an angry look at Lupin.

"Look, I've only allowed Ron and Hermione to come with me because they said I could not stop them following me. It was their decision, not mine. But I will not let anyone else come with me. It is too dangerous."

"You know, we might make the same decision," Tonks said dryly. "How would you stop us following you? Mate, you need help."

"Don't – " Harry sounded desperate. "Tonks, please don't come with me. I cannot take on that responsibility – Dumbledore has already died because of me…"

Harry broke off, looking slightly embarrassed. He stared down on the ground again, avoiding everyone's eyes. Ginny reached out for his arm and squeezed it lightly. This time, Harry did not stop her.

Minerva sighed. It was painful to see how the boy blamed himself for Albus's death – as if he was responsible instead of a certain former Potions Master.

"Harry," she started hoarsely, "It is not your fault. Albus was… my closest friend. I miss him terribly, but I would never, ever think you responsible for his death."

Minerva pressed her lips together again. She hated it when her voice sounded that emotional.

"But I am the reason," Harry whispered, his voice trembling. "It would not have happened if he had not tried to protect me first – Malfoy could never have disarmed him otherwise…"

"Draco Malfoy disarmed Dumbledore? Never!" Tonks said incredulously.

"I told you, it was only because he was preoccupied protecting me – "

Harry broke off again, by now definitely crying. Hermione slowly moved closer to him and knelt down on his left. She placed her hand on Harry's shoulder while exchanging a quick look with Ginny.

"It's alright, Harry, really it's alright… it's not your fault," she mumbled.

"No, it's not!" Harry shrugged her hand off with an angry move.

"I know it's _not_ alright, it will never be, I dream of this moment every night and… Hermione, you were not there. You cannot tell, you cannot claim it's alright when you were not there…"

"Then tell us about it," Ginny insisted stubbornly. "Do tell us, explain the situation to us. Explain so that we can judge for ourselves and understand what happened."

Harry shook his head again. Hermione and Ginny exchanged another look, clearly desperate in their attempt to help Harry. Ron watched the whole scene uncomfortably.

"Harry," Lupin quietly spoke up, "I think in a way Ginny is right. Don't bottle everything up inside you. If you have nightmares, you need to speak of what caused them. You won't be able to go on otherwise."

"Mate, we're your friends," Ron added, sounding slightly hurt. "You can tell us, you know."

Harry raised his head again and looked at Ron while twisting his mouth into something that might pass for a bitter smile.

"Ron, it's not that I don't trust you. It's just that… it's bad enough to dream of this all the time. I just cannot speak about it. It's like I relive that moment constantly, and I just don't know how to express it."

Minerva had watched Harry the whole time, deeply touched by how much Dumbledore's death had affected the young man. Suddenly she became aware that Hermione was staring at her.

"Professor McGonagall…" Hermione knitted her brow.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"That Pensieve Professor Dumbledore had… is it still at Hogwarts?"

"Of course, it's still in the Headmaster's office…" Minerva replied reservedly, anticipating what Hermione was going to say.

"Do you think that Harry could use it to show us his memory of that night?"

Everyone fell silent for a second, then Ginny jumped up excitedly.

"Of course! Harry, you don't have to _speak_ of it, you could just _show_ us. That way we'd know what happened and could share your pain… please, say you'll do it, I so want to help you."

Minerva felt her heart beat faster. She did not like that idea, although she had to admit that it was an excellent solution for the problem.

It was obvious that Harry needed to share his haunting recollections in order to get over his emotional trauma, but she seriously doubted that Ron, Hermione and Ginny should watch this horrible memory. Maybe some of the members of the Order of the Phoenix should view it together with Harry, but those young people…

Minerva shook her head resolutely, willing another scared thought away. She herself was not too keen on witnessing Albus's death, in fact, she was horribly afraid of it.

The Headmistress looked back at Harry and saw him watching her with his strangely green eyes. She saw his pain, and his faint, desperate hope that one day the pain might get better. Minerva swallowed hard.

"If you want to, you are welcome to use the Pensieve, Mr Potter. But –"

"Show it to all of us," Lupin interrupted Minerva as if he had guessed her thoughts.

"Show it to those who want to protect you and help you, to the Order of the Phoenix. I don't think we should drag your friends into this."

"Most definitely not!" Molly Weasley's voice rang out. In their intense discussion, they had not noticed that Molly and Arthur had walked up to them.

"I cannot speak for Hermione, and I am afraid I cannot order Ron not to watch this memory with you – but Ginny is not of age. I will not allow her to share this memory."

"Mum!"

Ginny stared at her mother indignantly. Her outcry had sounded childish, but her expression proved that she was no mere girl any more. Ginny did not throw a tantrum, she simply looked at her mother with cold determination.

"Ginny, what kind of a mother would I be if I let you see something like this?" Molly asked helplessly.

"An understanding one," Ginny replied quietly.

"I think she is right, Molly," Arthur said after a long moment. "If she wants to help Harry, she will do it – better let us do this together."

Molly looked away and bit her lip thoughtfully. Then she turned to look at Minerva. The two women held each other's gaze for a few seconds. Minerva was tempted to use Legilimency on Molly, but decided it unfair to do so. Molly Weasley looked deeply concerned, and Minerva had the impression that it was not only Ginny that Molly worried about.

"Yes," Minerva finally said. "Let us try to help Harry. Let us view this memory together."

There was a long silence, only interrupted by the crackling sounds of a silver crossette firework exploding in the sky above them.

"Thank you," Harry then whispered.

Minerva once more closed her eyes and turned her head away from the others. She was going to witness the murder of her beloved.


	3. A Matter of Perception

In the early afternoon of the next day, the Headmistress placed her wand on Harry's temple and withdrew the memory from his mind. The long silvery thread hung from her wand like cobwebs and glittered faintly as she moved towards the Pensieve. Lastly, she let it drop into the swirling mist inside the stone basin.

"Are you ready?" she asked the assembled witches and wizards.

Minerva knew that she herself was anything but ready to go through with this; that she would, in fact, never be ready to witness Albus's death – yet all around her, heads were nodded. Molly Weasley shot one last desperate look at Ginny, but the young red-head fiercely shoved her mother aside and moved to stand next to Harry.

"Yes," Ginny declared quietly. "Let's do it."

"Alright, then," Minerva said tersely.

She pointed her wand at the Pensieve again and lifted some of the silver mist out of it. Like a glittering fog, it now hung over the basin.

"I have enlarged the surface of the substance," she explained. "That way, we will be more comfortable when we enter the memory together. Form a circle around the Pensieve, and then we will step into the mist. It will be sufficient if we dive in our faces."

They entered the scene quietly. Once all of them had been plunged into the memory, they formed a small group on the edge of the Astronomy Tower. The memory had started immediately after Harry and Dumbledore had landed on the platform. Only Dumbledore was visible to them. Harry was hidden under his Invisibility Cloak.

Dumbledore ordered Harry to go and fetch Snape, and then the door to the ramparts burst open. Dumbledore immediately turned to where Harry presumably stood and muttered something – this must have been the immobilising spell.

"_Expelliarmus_!" Draco Malfoy's voice rung through the night.

Harry had been right. Draco had used that very second to disarm the Headmaster. Minerva shook her head while she mustered Albus closely. She had never seen him that weak, not even after he had destroyed the second Horcrux – and yet, even in that weak state, it seemed so out of character that a mere student had succeeded in disarming him.

They watched the conversation between Draco and Dumbledore in silence. Minerva smiled sadly. This was the man she had know and loved. Pale and feeble, he still talked to Draco in his usual, friendly manner. Even when the other Death Eaters and Fenrir Greyback arrived Dumbledore remained this pleasant gentleman, ever polite, and ever aware of what he was doing.

The scene changed subtly when Snape arrived at last. Minerva listened how squat Amycus complained about Draco's inability to kill, but what caught her attention was the expression on Albus's face. The old wizard's features showed both relief to see Snape and a hint of desperation.

When Minerva turned to look at Snape again he had already pushed the others out of his way and gazed at Dumbledore. Even in the memory, Minerva sensed the power radiating from him. Draco, the three Death Eaters, and the werewolf stood back as if he was their master. Snape's face was a mask of anger and hatred. Even in their fiercest arguments Minerva had never seen him so enraged. She had the impression that Snape wanted nothing more than punish the pleading old man.

_Pleading?_ Minerva's attention snapped back to the Headmaster. Yes, Dumbledore was pleading. She had barely registered when Dumbledore had first spoken Severus's name, but now she became fully aware of what was going on between the two men. Dumbledore was pleading, begging in fact, and Snape stared at the old wizard, his face twisted with hatred he felt because of the Headmaster's appeals.

And suddenly, Minerva understood. Watching the two men closely was the key to understanding what had truly taken place that night.

After this realisation Minerva felt nothing but deep gratitude that she did indeed witness this scene and could finally understand what had happened – but even this did not prepare her for the shock of actually seeing Snape kill Dumbledore. When the old wizard's body fell from the tower, Minerva was in pain as if the spell had been directed at her. She felt her knees grow weak and thought for a moment that she might faint.

Harry's memory broke off after Draco, Snape, Greyback and the other Death Eaters had rushed from the platform and he had thrown off his Invisibility Cloak. The real Harry withdrew his head from the mist of the Pensieve and watched the others do likewise.

Slowly, all the members of the Order of the Phoenix drew back and exchanged uneasy looks. Molly Weasley took a handkerchief out of her pocket and blew her nose forcefully. Tonks and Hermione were crying openly, and Ginny's face showed a mixture of defiance and grief. Minerva felt weak and sick. She knew that she would dream of this dead-bringing green light many times.

"So that's how it happened," Ron said throatily. "Harry, mate, this must have been so –" he broke off and gripped Harry's shoulder.

Molly now swept Harry in a motherly embrace.

"Dear, witnessing this again must have been so hard on you," she whispered. "You were so brave to go through with this. But now we all can share this, you know you're not alone any more… the nightmares will go away…"

Minerva nodded. She tried to point her wand at the silver mist and push it back into the basin, but found that she had trouble holding the wand. The shock of those new realisations now fully kicked in. She was trembling from head to toe and had to clutch her hands over her nose and mouth to stop herself from crying out loud.

"How I hate this man," Ginny spoke up. Her voice was surprisingly clear and cold as ice.

Some of the others murmured agreement and heads were nodded.

"Bloody rotten traitor…" Tonks whispered helplessly.

Minerva stared at the young witches. She had not been prepared for _that_ reaction.

"No!" she exclaimed. "No, don't you understand? He is no traitor."

She still stood next to the Pensieve, in fact she used it as support to lean on. Tears were streaming from her eyes. Minerva's emotional agony was so intense that she could feel the pain physically burning inside herself. She would never forgive Snape for killing the man she had loved. But she also understood that he still was her ally.

"He is no traitor," she whispered again.

"Harry, why didn't you tell us earlier that this is how it happened? Are you aware that every Auror in this country is looking for Severus? I myself have increased security on Hogwarts so much that it is impossible for him to contact us."

Minerva searched the pockets of her robes for a handkerchief and finally found one. With shaking hands, she dabbed her eyes and tried to calm herself. All the while, she was aware that the others exchanged a new round of uncomfortable looks. Obviously they had not understood her.

"Minerva, what are you talking about?" Remus Lupin finally asked.

"Severus… it's obvious in this memory. He is no murderer, didn't you see that?"

Minerva stuffed the lace handkerchief back into her pocket. She desperately tried to read the faces of the others.

"We were wrong to think him a traitor. He is on our side."

Molly let go of Harry and surveyed Minerva closely. Moody also stared at her, watching her intensely both with his real and his magical eye.

"She's in shock," he finally decided.

"What are you talking about?" Minerva snapped back.

The expression on Moody's face grew strangely calm and kind. He and Lupin carefully came closer to Minerva.

"Minerva, we all witnessed this memory together. We saw Snape do it. There can be no question about it."

"Of course he did it, but this was no murder," Minerva replied excitedly. "Don't you understand this?"

Molly now pushed Moody aside and walked up to Minerva. She took her right hand and tried to nudge Minerva towards the next chair.

"Minerva, dear, do sit down. You are trembling and pale as a ghost. This has all been too much for you. We are aware that seeing Albus die must have been harder on you than on anyone else."

Minerva first allowed Molly to lead her a few steps, but then she withdrew her hand with a sudden movement.

"You do not believe me."

"Dear, I'm not saying you are wrong. You are simply confused. This was a great shock for you."

"It certainly was a shock, but a positive one. We all thought Severus was a traitor, but now we know that he is not. Goodness, we need to convey a message to him somehow."

Minerva stared at the disbelieving faces of the others.

"You don't believe me," she repeated.

"She's lost her mind," someone whispered – Ron? Minerva was not sure, but she saw Hermione nod and whisper urgently to Harry.

"She's in shock. She doesn't know what she is saying."

The situation was awkwardly embarrassing.

Obviously nobody had seen what Minerva had seen – yet she was absolutely certain that her perception of the scene was correct. After all, who had known Albus Dumbledore better than she had known him?

And on the same matter, who of the others had known Snape better than her? None of them had ever cared for his companionship, but she had at least shared something like a rivalling friendship with the young wizard. He had not just been a fellow Head of House and member of the Order of the Phoenix, he had been a friend, a true and loyal friend, as she now realised.

"Minerva, please do sit down," Lupin tried again. "Do sit down and take a potion to help you calm down, then you can tell us why you think we are wrong."

"I don't need a calming potion, I need you to listen to me!"

"Alright," Molly answered reassuringly. "Tell us what you think."

Tonks had moved to the door and nodded to Molly. Minerva saw her mouth something that looked like 'Poppy' – so now they thought her so deep in shock that they were going to fetch the school nurse.

"Yes," Lupin played along with Molly. "Why do you think we don't understand?"

Minerva drew in a deep breath. She realised this was her only chance to convince the others of her opinion.

"Albus's behaviour," she said slowly. "Albus would have acted differently if this had been a murder."

She looked around, but only saw disbelieving faces. Harry had turned away from her.

"Albus had convinced Draco not to kill him, right?" Minerva continued urgently.

Moody nodded. "Aye, I do think so."

"You all know that Albus would have protected Draco then, wouldn't he? When the others entered the platform, he would never have allowed them to harm Malfoy; he would have protected the boy."

"But how could he have done that, Minerva? Draco had his wand. Albus was defenceless."

Lupin's voice was very sad.

"Remus, you knew Albus. He would have fought to protect Draco with his bare hands – and he was capable of some wandless magic. Only one thing could have stopped Albus from fighting in such a situation, and that was if he knew there was someone else present who could offer Draco _better _protection. He still trusted Severus not to be a Death Eater, and that Severus would care for Draco."

"Maybe. Minerva, sadly enough, we all trusted Snape until that evening."

Lupin chose his words carefully.

"Albus was weak, and he may have been a bit confused. Maybe he chose not to fight because he saw Snape entering the platform and first thought Snape would protect him and the Malfoy boy. But that does not change the fact that Snape betrayed his trust only seconds later."

"Dumbledore realised Snape was a Death Eater," Harry interjected. His voice was shaking with grief and hatred.

"He was begging. I never thought I'd ever see Dumbledore pleading for his life…"

He broke off and furiously wiped tears from his eyes. Hermione squeezed Harry's arm reassuringly.

"But Harry, that's precisely it," Minerva said urgently. "That is why I know I am right. Albus would _never_ have begged for his life. Had he for one second believed Severus to be with them, he would not have pleaded. He would have been utterly disappointed, sad, and maybe angry. But he would never have begged Severus to spare his life."

"Minerva, in that situation, every one of us would have been afraid," Molly said quietly.

"I know you loved Albus. You would only think the best of him. But there is nothing shameful in begging for one's life. Not in a situation like that."

Minerva's anger flashed up again when Molly mentioned her feelings for Albus. Their relationship had never been anything official. It was not Molly's business to evaluate how Minerva felt. Irritably, she cut Molly off.

"This has nothing to do with pride and shame. I am simply saying that Albus would never have pleaded for his life if he had believed Severus to be with the Death Eaters. He knew until his end that Severus is on our side."

"But then why did he plead?" Arthur Weasley asked carefully. "I am afraid that makes no sense if he believed in Severus."

"Isn't that obvious? He begged Severus to kill him."

"Minerva, you don't know what you are saying!" Arthur was firm. He raised his voice when he continued.

"I am aware that watching this has shocked you, but do be careful what you're suggesting. Why would Dumbledore have done such a thing?"

Minerva followed Arthur's gaze and looked at Harry before she answered. The young man now stared at Minerva with an expression of utmost disbelief and beginning anger.

"That I don't know," Minerva replied as calmly as possible.

"Honestly, I wish I could explain this better. All I am saying is that Albus's behaviour makes sense _only_ if he knew perfectly that Severus was on our side. He trusted Severus until his end. Had he for only one second doubted him, he would not have begged. He would have expressed his disappointment, and he would have fought."

"Minerva, it is alright to beg for one's life," Molly whispered again. "I am sure that even my brothers did that in the end…"

The door was opened again and Tonks came into the room accompanied by Poppy Pomfrey. Minerva shot one sharp look at the school nurse.

"I do not need medical attention."

"Alright, alright. I just came to check on you," Poppy replied.

She passed through the room and went into the living room behind the Headmistress's office. Minerva noticed that Molly Weasley and Tonks exchanged one short look and that the younger witch nodded just a tiny little bit, but she thought nothing of it.

"Minerva," Molly slowly said, "maybe what you're saying is true. Maybe Albus died believing Snape to be on our side. He was such a good-hearted, gentle man, he might very well have trusted his protégé until the very end. But the fact remains that Snape murdered him."

"Killed him, yes. But that was no murder. Didn't you see the hatred on Severus's face? He hated himself for doing it. And the pleading only makes sense if he wanted Severus to do it. Even Albus could not have _ordered_ Severus to do such a thing – but he could have asked him, _begged_ him..."

Minerva did not know what else to say or do. Now that she had finally understood what had happened in that night, she wanted nothing more than contact Snape and hear his account of events. But she had to convince the others first.

"If I may interrupt you for a moment…"

Poppy came back into the room. She carried a glass of water she had fetched from the living room.

"Here, Minerva. Do drink some water at least, your voice is all hoarse from all that shouting. And then you can explain all of this again. After all, you did know both Dumbledore and Snape better than most of us did."

The nurse handed Minerva the glass. Exasperated, Minerva took the water and drank a small sip of it.

"Thank you," she said irritably and turned to place the glass on the table next to her.

Then suddenly she grew dizzy and disoriented. Of course, the water… never accept anything from a doctor when others think you insane. Minerva tried to focus on Poppy Pomfrey, but the last thing she knew was that someone caught her before she fell on the floor and everything around her grew black.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Minerva awoke a couple of hours later lying comfortably in her bed. Someone had taken off her shoes and opened her outer robes before tucking her under the blanket. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked around in the room. Poppy Pomfrey was sitting on a chair next to her bed.

"Don't get up," the school nurse ordered quietly. "That potion I gave you was quite strong, you will be dizzy for a while."

True enough, Minerva felt the room start spinning around her immediately. She let herself fall back on the pillows.

"That was absolutely unnecessary."

"I am afraid I don't agree. Minerva, you were suffering from a severe shock. I needed to give you something to make you calm down."

"Alright, but knocking me out like that in front of everyone watching? That was quite embarrassing."

"The whole scene was embarrassing enough. Do you remember what you said?"

"Every word of it."

"See? Everybody realises of course that this was the shock speaking out of your mouth, but I am afraid young Harry still was taken aback quite a bit. You will have to talk to him to restore his faith in you."

"But I wasn't wrong!"

Minerva sat up again and willed the instant dizziness to go away. She reached for her spectacles on the bedside table and made to get up from the bed.

Poppy pushed her back.

"Minerva, please, let's talk about this first. You really believe what you said? The others told me all about it. Do you really believe Severus Snape is not a traitor?"

"Yes. It's obvious. Poppy, watch that memory. It's obvious when you know both men."

"I have watched that memory in the meantime. I needed to know what this was all about."

The two witches stared at each other for a few seconds. Then Minerva turned away from her friend.

"You also don't believe me."

This time, her voice was all resignation.

"You think me insane."

Minerva avoided looking at Poppy and stared out of the window instead. Poppy reached for her hand and squeezed it softly.

"I don't believe you are insane, Minerva. I know that you are not. But I do believe that you have suffered a shock, and that you may be mistaken in your perception of events."

Minerva did not reply.

"Dear, these past few weeks were incredibly hard on you. And you refused to speak to any one of us. I know you grieve for Albus. You spend hours by his grave almost every evening. And I know that it was a terrible shock for you that Severus killed him."

"Severus…" Minerva repeated. "Yes, that was a shock. For all of us, I would have thought."

"Of course. But you and Severus, you were friends – or at least you must have thought so. He never socialised with anyone here except for you and Albus."

"We were friends, of a sort," Minerva agreed.

"I mean, we were never close like you and I are, but I thought he was more open to me and Albus than to anyone else. I thought I knew him. And I knew Albus. Poppy, everyone keeps telling me that I knew these two men better than anyone else, but now that I dare to interpret their behaviour on that certain evening – no one believes me."

"It's one thing to say that you knew them better than we did. But can't you see what you are saying? If Albus and Severus had planned his death, don't you think they would have told someone – told you, most likely? And how could they have planned ahead for events like this? Could they have know that there would be a battle at Hogwarts?"

"No. I don't know. Albus would never have planned a battle here. Not with all the students around."

"See? I know it is hard to accept, but what you are suggesting just makes no sense. There was no plan. Albus died because Severus murdered him."

"No." Minerva vehemently shook her head.

"I know it does not make sense based on the facts we know, but I also know what I have seen. Severus killed Albus, but he did not murder him."

Poppy remained silent for a while. She studied the stubborn expression on her friend's face.

"Minerva," she finally asked, "may I make a suggestion?"

Minerva shrugged.

"Do think this over for a few days before you speak of the matter again. I know it will be hard, but maybe you should watch the memory once more. I will do it with you. Don't jump to any conclusions. Take your time to think it over. I'll be there for you if you want to talk."

"Alright," Minerva agreed reluctantly. "After all I can see why the others were so surprised. Harry, especially… I will talk to him."

"Good."

Poppy openly showed how relieved she felt. Minerva raised her eyebrow and shot a critical look at her friend.

"I did not say I would change my opinion."

"I trust you to make the right decision. And for now, you will lie down again and sleep some more. Believe me, it's best if you sleep through the after-effects of that potion. Don't think I haven't noticed that you lost a lot of weight in the past few weeks. All that grieving has made you grow weak."

Obediently, Minerva did lie back again. She had to admit that the potion had left her with a dreadful headache. Poppy got up from her chair.

"Sleep well. I will check on you again in a few hours. And in the meantime, I'll go and tell the others that you are feeling much better by now, and that you have understood why your statements shocked them so much. They will be very relieved."

Minerva pulled a face, but then she smiled at her friend.

"Do what you think is best."


	4. Walking Away

True to her word, Minerva did not mention the issue again during the next few days. First thing on Monday morning, she went to Harry and apologised for shocking him with her idea, but without explaining what she thought now. Harry had in the meantime had enough time to recover from his initial surprise and told the Headmistress that he did not think much of the incident.

Minerva knew that he was lying. He and the others treated her extra careful and friendly, almost as if they expected another breakdown any time. Painfully, Minerva realised that there would be no way of convincing them of her opinion any time soon. In their eyes, she had gone from highly-esteemed Headmistress to potential mental patient.

Poppy Pomfrey was the only one who did not tread on eggshells when around Minerva. In fact, she openly suggested they talk the matter over again, and challenged Minerva on her feelings for Dumbledore. They spent one long afternoon discussing Minerva's opinion and options now.

Minerva was glad that she had her friend to confide in. Poppy was one of those rare persons she could talk to openly, after all, their friendship went back a long time and Poppy was one of the small number of people who had actually known about the relationship between Dumbledore and his deputy. Although many had suspected some kind of romance there, very few had known the truth.

Two days later, Poppy and Minerva together entered Harry's memory again. This time, Minerva emerged from the Pensieve crying so hard that, for a couple of minutes, even Poppy could not comfort her. Minerva had loved Albus Dumbledore with all her heart. Witnessing his death over and over again already was more pain than she could bear; and seeing her friend Snape do the actual killing only increased her agony.

Minerva collapsed on the floor and wailed in grief while Poppy held her. Whenever she thought of Snape now, she only saw Dumbledore's dead body and the fatal green light coming out of Severus's wand. She hated Severus Snape for committing this act, and she knew that she would never forgive him.

But she also maintained her interpretation that Severus Snape was no traitor. Whatever his reason for killing Dumbledore had been, he had not acted on Voldemort's orders or according to plans of his own. He had only done what Dumbledore had asked him, had, in fact, begged him to do.

For two more days, Minerva pondered what to do. Then she made up her mind to speak to the others again. She would once more try to explain her position.

Maybe one or the other of them would agree with her now that they had also had a few days to think it over – and even if that was too much to hope for, they would at least see that she was not out of her mind. She had, after all, convinced Poppy of that fact. While the school nurse did not agree with her friend, she had admitted that Minerva's understanding of events was one possible way of interpretation and thus not a totally insane suggestion.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The members of the Order were eager to meet again when Minerva owled them on Friday evening. Everyone agreed to meet in Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, on Saturday. Minerva arrived early and met half the Weasley family there already. Molly was preparing dinner in the kitchen, but Fleur, Ginny and the twins were upstairs.

Minerva went upstairs to chat a little with Fleur, but found her sleeping on the sofa in one of the upstairs living rooms. Careful not to wake the young woman, Minerva tip-toed down the stairs again and was just about to enter the kitchen when she heard that Arthur Weasley had arrived in the meantime. He and his wife were discussing Snape again. Fully aware that it was not polite to listen, Minerva stopped before opening the door.

She sneaked closer to the half-open door and stole a look into the kitchen. Arthur threw off his travel cloak and went to prepare some tea.

"Where's Minerva?" he asked.

"Upstairs. She wanted to check on Fleur," Molly replied.

"Good." Arthur nodded. "I am glad they spend time together."

"I know what you mean," Molly sighed. "A young woman expecting a baby is a symbol of hope. I think Minerva needs some hope in her life."

Minerva pressed her lips together. While she whole-heartedly agreed with Molly that she could have done with some hope in her life, she was not quite sure if she liked Molly to voice that opinion.

"Do you want some?" Arthur asked, pointing to the tea.

Molly shook her head. She stirred vigorously in one of the pots on the stove.

"I wish there was something we could do for her," she finally exclaimed.

"Me too," Arthur agreed. "She's been beside herself with grief ever since Dumbledore's death, but this new development… this is not good. She has gone from sorrow to denial."

Through the door crack Minerva saw Molly sit down at the table next to her husband. The pots on the stove simmered quietly, and Molly started cutting some more vegetables for the soup.

"It does look like it, I am afraid," she said. "Seeing that memory was painful for every one of us, but it must have been worst for Minerva. I hope it has not done too much harm."

"We should not have allowed her to witness it."

"I agree, but how could we have done that? Who could tell Minerva McGonagall that she is not allowed to do something? – And after all, we could not have foreseen this happening. It might just as well have done her good."

"How so?" Arthur asked, surprised.

"Well, in a sense of saying goodbye. I could not really grasp the fact that Gideon and Fabian were dead until I'd seen the bodies. Minerva did see Dumbledore's body, of course, but I thought maybe it would do her good, you know, basically to be with him in his last moments."

"And to see Snape."

"Yes, that is the other part. Minerva is such a kind person under all that stern appearance. When Snape pretended to return to our side back then, she welcomed him back. She became his friend. It must have been such a shock to her that _he_ actually was the one who did it."

Arthur poured himself some more tea. He appeared lost in thought for the moment. Molly got up and stirred in one of the pots again.

"I think you're right," Arthur slowly said. "Do you remember, that night when it happened? Minerva held herself up fine even after she'd learned of Dumbledore's death. But when Harry told her that Snape had done it – that's when she broke down. Quite interesting, isn't it?"

"Yes. It's so sad, really. Minerva lost two people that night. When Snape showed his true colours, she lost the friend she had trusted – well, and Dumbledore."

"More than a friend."

"We've always wondered." Molly almost whispered. Her voice was very sad again.

"We've always suspected that they were more than friends. Well, one simply has to watch Minerva now to learn the truth. Her heart is broken."

Minerva swallowed hard. She did not much appreciate of the way the Weasleys talked about her, but she had to admit that they were very close to the truth. While she had always managed to be discrete about her relationship to Albus, she knew that she had shown her mourning too openly in the weeks since his death – and Molly also was right about the fact that Minerva had lost two persons that night. No matter what she now thought of Snape's allegiance, she would not regard him a friend any more. Never.

Arthur got up from the table and moved to stand behind his wife. He hugged her from behind while she continued preparing the food.

"I wish there was something we could do for her," he repeated the words Molly had said earlier.

"But what can we do?" Molly sighed. "Seeing what happened that night was too much for her. She has gone from simple mourning to denial. If she does not understand that Snape is on You-Know-Who's side even after she has basically witnessed it, how can we make her accept this fact? She has seen the truth with her own eyes, but we cannot force her to understand it with her mind as well."

"I know. This is just so unlike her. I mean, stern, strict, brilliant Minerva would not have reacted like that. Something inside her broke when her love died."

Minerva quietly backed away from the door. She had heard enough. The conversation between Arthur and Molly Weasley clearly showed that although they did care for her and wanted to do what the right thing, they would not trust her judgement any more.

She moved to the small window next to the entrance door and looked out into the warm summer evening. Five Muggle children were playing a ball game outside. Minerva smiled sadly. She had always wished for children of her own, but fate had not left that option for her. When she and Albus had become a couple, they had decided that they were too old to become parents, and that their lives were too dangerous for a happy family life anyway.

One of the children kicked the ball up high and started running after it, but a young woman with bright pink hair caught it first and threw it back to the kids. Tonks and Remus Lupin had arrived. While Remus wore his usual, slightly shabby Muggle attire of corduroy trousers and a woollen sweater, Tonks wore bright pink trainers, a patched denim skirt and a very tight white t-shirt with the words 'wicked witch' embroidered across the chest. Minerva almost laughed out loud. Tonks knew perfectly how to fit in with Muggles.

Tonks got into the ball game with the children and kicked the ball into a group of shrubs next to one of the houses nearby. The children ran after it, and Tonks drew her wand out of her pocket and spoke something in their direction. Lupin grinned and took Tonks's hand. When the children were gone, they swiftly walked towards Number Twelve.

Minerva opened the door for them. Still laughing, both of them came rushing in.

"What was that spell you did out there?" Minerva wanted to know.

"Oh, that –" Tonks smiled. "I just made sure they'd find some chocolate while looking for the ball. Didn't want them to come back and see us disappearing."

"She's an expert at benevolent Muggle-baiting," Lupin explained fondly. "She keeps them occupied by giving them some bait they will take, that's how she manages to do so much magic close to Muggles."

"Everybody here already?" Tonks wanted to know. She sounded more serious now.

"The Weasleys are," Minerva replied. "Let's go into the kitchen."

They settled down in the kitchen and shared some of the tea Arthur Weasley had prepared earlier. Minerva deliberately avoided Molly's gaze and had the impression that Molly did likewise. Although they chatted about neutral, every-day issues, Minerva sensed the rising tension.

One by one, the other members of the Order arrived. Minerva was painfully aware of the curious looks they shot at her when they thought she did not notice. She stirred in her tea and tried to act as if she did not notice. She had made up her mind what to say.

Finally, Harry, Ron, and Hermione came in accompanied by Moody. They sat down with the rest after greeting them all, then everyone went quiet. They were ready to begin their meeting.

Moody cleared his throat, but Minerva interrupted him quietly.

"I would like to say something, if that's alright, Alastor."

"Certainly."

Minerva looked at the many faces staring at her. She knew what they expected her to say, and was sad that she would not be able to fulfil their wishes.

"I know that I must have quite shocked you after we watched that memory together," Minerva spoke up. "I do apologise for that. What I saw in Harry's memory appeared so obvious to me that I could not understand how anyone could interpret it differently."

"That's alright, Minerva," Tonks said reassuringly. "Really, you do not need to apologise. We knew you were in shock. All of us were."

Heads were nodded around the table. Minerva drew in a deep breath before she continued.

"There is something else we need to discuss. It's about how we will go on here, with this group we've called the Order of the Phoenix."

"What do you mean?" Lupin asked.

"Since… since Albus's death, we have not had a leader any more. Alastor and I have tried to keep this Order going, but not whole-heartedly. We need a Head of the Order to centre around – or rather, you need one."

Minerva broke off for a moment, but no one responded.

"I'd suggest Alastor for that job, but it really is not my business any more. I will leave this Order."

"What?" – "Why?" – "No way!" – "Why would you do that?"

Everyone spoke up at the same time. Tonks half jumped from her seat and knocked her tea over in the process, and Molly reached across the table to take Minerva's hand.

"Dear, why would you want to do that?" she asked.

Slowly, the excited voices grew calmer. Hermione muttered a spell under her breath and directed a rag to fly to the table and wipe the tea off. The action was absurdly distracting for Minerva. This seventeen-year-old Muggle-born girl really was one of the most talented students she had ever had.

Minerva forced her attention back on the subject.

"It is quite simple. I realise that with the opinion I voiced a few days ago, I have become a burden to this Order. You cannot afford to have one member who most of you think… well, a little out of her mind."

"We don't think you out of your mind," Lupin said gently. "I think we agree that you were a bit mistaken, but now…"

"I have not changed my mind, Remus," Minerva said with quiet defiance. "Let me be very clear on this. I _hate_ Severus for what he has done. But I have realised that he did not betray us. Whatever his reason for killing Dumbledore was, he did not act on You-Know-Who's orders."

"You really believe that?" Harry spoke up. "But that's insane!"

The young wizard's voice was full of rage and contempt. Minerva did not like the way he stared at her. She remembered the polite and friendly eleven-year-old boy he had been – a friendly child who had even been a little scared of his teacher. Now the young man he had become gazed at her with a mixture of anger, pity, and disdain. It was obvious that he did not respect her any more.

"Yes, Potter, I really believe that," Minerva replied. "And that is the reason why I cannot remain a member of this Order any longer. I understand that you do not trust me any more. You think my judgement insane – ergo anything I know of this Order is a security risk to you."

"Minerva, don't say that." Molly was almost begging. "You are our friend, don't leave us like that –"

"Molly, I did not say I was not your friend any more. Although I must admit that it does hurt to be considered a mental patient."

"But – "

"But what?" Minerva's voice was sad. "I did hear what you said about me – something about going into denial because of too much sorrow, and too little hope in my life, wasn't it that? And that I cannot accept the fact that someone who I thought to be a friend has become a murderer?"

Molly had blushed a little and looked helplessly at her husband. Arthur Weasley looked at Minerva.

"Yes, we did say that," he confirmed. "And it is what I believe. Minerva, I think these past few weeks have been too hard for you, and as a result your judgement is not as reliable as it used to be. You are mistaken in what you believe."

Minerva got up from her seat.

"Thank you for being honest, Arthur," she said earnestly. "I do prefer that to whispers behind my back. But I have also made up my mind. I know that I am not mistaken, and as a consequence, I will walk out of this house now and not come back."

A new round of protests erupted, but Minerva cut them off.

"Please, don't – I do know what you think of me, after all. Do me the favour and don't pretend otherwise now. I would still love to see you all as my friends, but let us not discuss this question any more. And do not tell me anything you – as the Order of the Phoenix – plan and do."

"If that is your wish…" Lupin was very reluctant, but she knew he would agree in the end.

"I will come to visit you in Hogwarts," he finally said.

"See you then, Remus," Minerva replied.

She walked out of the room, careful not to look back. It took her only seconds to put on the Muggle coat she wore over her usual robes and leave the house. She went quickly, afraid that one of the others might have decided to follow her. She did not want to see anyone or speak to anyone right now.

Around the next corner, Minerva saw the playing children again. Two of the little boys had traces of chocolate smeared on their faces. They raced after their ball and kicked it high into the air again. The ball fell into a little fountain in front of one of the houses. Water soaked the children and one girl squeaked with mock disgust, but she immediately started playing with the water and splashed it at the boys. All of the children laughed, and Minerva smiled. It was a beautiful late summer day, after all.


	5. Haunting

Remus Lupin and Tonks came to see Minerva in Hogwarts only three hours later. They tried to convince her to join the Order again, claiming that they needed her desperately. Tonks told Minerva that Hermione Granger had started a furious discussion with the other members of the Order right after Minerva had left – apparently she did not quite believe Minerva's version of events, but also found it quite hard to even consider the possibility that her favourite teacher could ever be wrong about anything.

Minerva almost smiled. It felt good to know that Hermione at least did think about the matter. Maybe she would in time come to understand that Snape could not possibly be a Death Eater. But Minerva remained firm concerning her decision to leave the Order. She had made up her mind and did not want the others to think of her as a burden.

The next morning, Arthur and Molly Weasley sent an owl carrying both a personal letter to Minerva from Molly and a report of everything the Order had decided on the previous night after Minerva's departure. Minerva found it quite touching to receive both. She knew that they all simply worried about her. Molly also wrote that Harry, Ron and Hermione had set of in search of the Horcruxes again. Apparently Ginny was very disappointed that the trio had not let her join them, but Molly of course was much relieved about this rejection.

Other than that, Sunday was a rather quiet day. Minerva buried herself in school-work all morning and sent another letter to the Ministry, after all the new term was due to start in a week and a day and she still did not have the official confirmation that she would be allowed to re-open Hogwarts.

Minerva spent the rest of the day alone, avoiding Poppy Pomfrey at lunch. The fact that Poppy was one of the few persons who had know of her relationship to Albus Dumbledore made her an accomplice who knew exactly why Minerva mourned, but there was one thing that Minerva could not discuss; not even with Poppy. She took a long walk in the Hogwarts grounds and tried to sort her thoughts and feelings out.

Minerva still was absolutely convinced that Snape and Dumbledore must have planned for things to go that way. They might not have expected a Death Eater raid on Hogwarts, but it was plain to Minerva that they had anticipated a situation in which either Draco Malfoy or Snape would have to kill Dumbledore. For a long time, Minerva walked along the edge of the Forbidden Forest, wondering when they had developed this plan, and when they had decided to go through with it.

What bothered Minerva about this whole scheme was that she had not known of it. Why had they not told her? At first, she had grieved too much to pay any attention to that detail, but now, she grew increasingly irritated with the fact that Dumbledore had kept his plan secret.

Minerva's feet had carried her to Albus's grave without herself noticing. Tired and worn out she sat down on the small marble step around his sarcophagus, still wondering why the man she had loved so much had not told her of the arrangements concerning the end of his life. Surprised and ashamed, Minerva found that she had added another feeling to her mourning – anger. She was angry with Albus for not having told her. She had been as good as his wife; she would have had the right to know.

She stayed at the grave for long hours, just as she had done on so many nights since his death. It was a sad and depressing place, but Minerva was desperate for anything that might bring her closer to Albus Dumbledore again. Sometimes when she had sat by his grave for hours, she had had the feeling that she was not all alone. Maybe this night it would be the same, and maybe she would overcome her anger if she sat long enough by the white tomb. She could not speak of this anger to anybody, not even to Poppy. No one was to know that Minerva did not only mourn for Albus Dumbledore, but that she had also started questioning his decisions.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Early in the next morning, Minerva sat in her office drinking her usual black tea. During the holidays, Minerva frequently skipped breakfast and just drank the tea a faithful house-elf always placed on her bedside table. This morning, she had taken the steaming cup into her office with her and sat at her desk, buried in reading the Daily Prophet.

"Minerva, are you there?"

Poppy Pomfrey had opened the door just a crack.

"Certainly, come in."

Minerva got up and fetched another cup from her living room. She poured out some tea for her friend and motioned for her to sit down. Poppy did not look too happy.

"What is it, Poppy?"

The school nurse frowned. "I just received a letter from my cousin," she replied.

"Judging by the look on your face, no good news."

"No, it's bad news indeed. It's my aunt Camilla – she's been attacked by a werewolf."

"Goodness, no…" Minerva moved around her desk and stood next to her friend. She placed her hand on Poppy's shoulder and squeezed it gently.

"It's alright – " Poppy smiled distractedly. "Really, Minerva, I know it's a sad thing to say, but I hardly knew Aunt Camilla. She was my mother's half-sister and I haven't seen her since my Mum's death 34 years ago."

"How old is she?"

"Aunt Camilla? 148, I think. And she's injured badly. She may have survived the initial attack, but she is old and weak. I think I should go see her."

"Of course, you have to go. You might even be able to help her, after all, you have experience with werewolf bites."

"Yes, I have already owled my cousin that I'll be there tonight. But Minerva, I do feel bad about leaving you here."

"Leaving me? Nonsense, why would you feel bad about that? This is a family matter, you have to go and see your aunt. Especially if you haven't seen her in such a long time."

Poppy shook Minerva's hand off and looked her directly in the eyes.

"I think you know exactly why I don't like to leave you on your own right now. You have no company here. Even Pomona has left her precious green-houses this summer and went home, and Argus and Irma are not due to return from their 'secret' trip together for a couple of days."

Minerva rolled her eyes and went back to her own chair.

"Poppy, I'm fine. I just needed some time to get over Albus's death. But I have all that school work to keep myself busy, and Hagrid is here – I won't be alone. And we're talking about a couple of days only. Most of the staff will have returned by the week-end, after all the term starts in a week."

"You are not fine. Minerva, have you looked into a mirror lately? You hardly sleep or eat, and despite the fact that I keep trying to talk to you there is something on your mind that bothers you quite a bit."

"I do sleep, just not very well. And you watch me eat every day."

"No, I watch you _not_ eat every day. Pushing food around on your plate is not eating; it's just playing with your fork. And you hardly sleep at all, instead I see you going to Albus's grave almost every night."

Minerva was silent for a moment.

"You know that?" she then asked in a much smaller voice.

"Of course I do," Poppy replied kindly. "You are my friend, Minerva. And he was my friend. I know about your past. I miss him so much that I visit his grave frequently, but you – dear, you haunt this tomb. This is not healthy for you."

Minerva sighed. "I just miss him so much, Poppy," she whispered. "I miss him so much, and there are so many things I'd like to ask him. I would so like to talk to him one last time…"

She broke off and bit her lip while squeezing her eyes shut. When she opened them again, Poppy was standing next to her. She handed her a handkerchief.

"Does this have anything to do with Severus?" she asked quietly.

"What makes you think of that?"

Poppy smiled sadly.

"You know, I sometimes wonder if there is something to your theory. It's so hard to accept that we all were mistaken when we trusted Severus… but your speculations do not give the answers to everything, do they? In fact, they create more questions. Like why you were not told of this plan?"

Before Minerva could think of an appropriate answer a sudden sound startled both witches.

A small owl had appeared outside the window, fluttering excitedly and pecking the glass with its beak. Poppy pulled herself together and went to open the window. The grey bird flew in, seated itself on Minerva's desk and stretched its right leg out towards the school nurse. She carefully took the message attached to it and unrolled it.

"It's from my cousin," she said after reading it quickly. "She's come to Hogsmeade to pick me up and help with my luggage."

"You need to go."

Reluctantly, Poppy nodded.

"I'll be back as soon as possible. When the term starts, at the latest."

"No, you won't. You'll stay with your family for as long as possible. We can manage without a school nurse for a while, Horace and I know enough about first aid to cover an emergency."

"Minerva – " Poppy looked at her friend with a fierce expression. "Minerva, when was the last time you went to see a healer?"

"Last year, in St Mungo's," Minerva replied, surprised with the sudden change of the subject. "With you here, why should I go and see another healer?"

"Right," Poppy said. "So as your personal healer, I'll give you some orders now, and you will follow them. Otherwise I will not go to see my family."

Minerva raised both eyebrows. She knew when not to argue with Poppy.

"You will eat at least twice every day. Before I leave, I will ask Hagrid to have lunch and dinner with you, and he will tell me if you skip meals.

Go to Hogsmeade at least twice this week, I want you to go out and meet other people.

And Minerva, while I would never ask you not to go and visit Albus, please do try not to spend the nights at his grave. This is not good for you."

"Alright..."

Minerva was not happy with the way Poppy ordered her about, but she knew that her friend was seriously concerned.

"You promise?"

"I promise I will eat, I will go out, and I will try not to spend the nights – there."

Minerva bit her lip, wondering if she dared to tell Poppy how she felt when she spent time at Albus's grave.

Poppy had first nodded, clearly pleased with Minerva's compliance, but now she watched Minerva quizzically. She knew that distracted look on her friend's face.

"What is it you're not telling me?"

Minerva drew in a deep breath, still wondering if she should worry Poppy doubly. When she looked up, she knew that she had no choice any more. Poppy knew her better than most people did, she expected an answer.

"What you said about going to Albus's grave, about this not being good for me… maybe you're right."

"I know I am, but why do you think so all of a sudden?"

"Well, when I go there, you know – I just don't feel alone any more, do you understand what I mean? It's as though he is there."

Poppy nodded sympathetically, but her eyes told Minerva that she knew Minerva had not yet told her the whole story.

"And a couple of nights ago, when I was there, I heard something… well, I thought I heard it. It was like…"

Minerva broke off again, but then she decided to go through with it.

"I thought I heard footsteps on the grass. And I clearly felt the presence of another person."

Poppy looked at her with a serious expression.

"Was this the first time this happened?"

"Yes.. no. It's hard to explain. That feeling that there was somebody with me, I've had that before – during the wake for Albus. And then a few times when I went to his grave, I thought I felt it again, and sometimes I heard a faint sound – like breathing, or a cloak swishing on the ground, or steps. It comes and goes. Sometimes it is as though I only imagine him to be there, and a few times it felt like – well, as though he was _really_ there. Only I could not see him."

Minerva was glad she was still sitting in her chair, she felt strangely faint all of a sudden. Poppy looked down on her with very kind eyes – too kind for Minerva's liking.

"Poppy, are they right?" she asked, her voice now shaking. "Have I lost my mind?"

"No, dear, you are not mad," Poppy said quietly. "You are under severe pressure, and you are on the verge of breaking down because you don't take care of yourself. You are in mourning, don't forget that – you imagine that what you have lost to still be there. It's a compensating mechanism of our mind."

"So these are – hallucinations? Tricks my mind is playing on me?"

"I'd think so. Muggles interpret this as ghosts quite often, but we would recognise a ghost – and I don't think Albus would have chosen to come back."

"No, I don't think so either. He did not fear death."

"Exactly. Dear, 'hallucinations' is a horrifying word, but it simply is a common experience. When we grieve, we often imagine things to be different. It's part of the healing process, and you will get over it."

Poppy actually reached out and stroked her friend's cheek. Minerva looked up in surprise.

"You are not mad, Minerva," Poppy said reassuringly. "You are confused, but you are not out of your mind."

Minerva nodded, still feeling very exhausted.

"I'll go and do my packing, then I'll come and see you again."

Poppy straightened up and made to leave the room.

"And I do expect you to write to me daily. I want to know how my best friend feels," she stated before going through the door.

Minerva remained sitting in her chair. She took another sip of her now-cold tea.

'Just hallucinations,' she thought. 'Not mad. Not yet…'

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Poppy Pomfrey left Hogwarts three hours later, and very reluctantly. Minerva found the way her friend worried about her deeply touching, but she was, in a way, glad to see her go anyway. She felt that she had given too much away by telling Poppy of those hallucinations she experienced. It was bad enough that everyone else thought her mad with grief, she did not want to admit that by now there were moments when she herself doubted her sanity.

The first three days, Minerva stuck to her promise. She went to lunch and dinner regularly, in fact, she almost enjoyed those quiet meals with Hagrid – partly because Hagrid did see to it that she ate a little, but did not dare to tell her to eat more. During their dinner on Wednesday evening, he gruffly mumbled something that sounded like an apology for letting her go when she had left the Order of the Phoenix. Hagrid obviously needed to pluck up all his courage to touch the subject, but he tried to comfort Minerva.

"I reckon we can jus' never know what was up with Snape tha' night, an' he must be evil after what he has done to Dumbledore. On'y, Headmistress, I jus' cannot imagine yeh would lose yer mind. I am not stupid but this is too complicated fer me to sort out."

Minerva's mood was much improved after that statement, at least Hagrid seemed undecided if she was barking mad or just confused. That evening, she almost felt good when she wrote her daily letter to Poppy.

Poppy had found her aunt in a better condition than she had expected, and had asked Minerva to owl her some of the school's medical supplies. Other than that, their letters were but short hellos to each other – Minerva finished again with the simple words 'Did not go there any more. Am doing fine.'

On Thursday, Minerva had just returned from dinner and settled down at her desk in her office when she heard the familiar tapping of an owl against her window. She waved her wand and opened the window for the huge bird. It was one of the strong, brown owls that were usually used for express deliveries.

Minerva took the letter from the beautiful bird and gave the animal one of the owl treats she always kept in her left drawer. The bird hooted softly and took off again. A gust of cold wind came in through the open window.

The rolled-up parchment bore the ministry crest on the wax seal. Anticipating another annoying note from Rufus Scrimgeour, Minerva broke the seal with an exasperated sigh and unrolled the letter. Quickly she scanned the message, then she took in a sharp breath and started reading it again. She had not expected this.

_Dear Professor McGonagall,_

_It is my sad duty to inform you that the Heads of the Department of Magical Education along with the Board of School Governors have decided that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will remain closed for a yet undecided amount of time._

_This decision is partly based on the information you yourself have provided to Ministry officials and the Auror Department._

_As you have informed us that the former Hogwarts Professor Severus Snape is in truth working for Him Who Must Not Be Named, it is not safe for any students to enter the Hogwarts grounds. Also, the grave of Professor Albus Dumbledore may attract the attention of other Death Eaters. Taking all of this into account, we cannot risk opening Hogwarts School for the public again. The situation may be re-evaluated in the event of the arrest of Mr Snape._

_However, you have now been confirmed as the official Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You as well as the rest of the Hogwarts staff will continue to receive full payment. You are free to appoint a new Deputy Headmaster/Headmistress of your choice; however, we do ask you not to hire a new teacher for the subjects of Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts yet. Also we do ask you to set up a teaching schedule that the wizard families of Britain and Ireland can use to home-school their children while the school building remains closed._

_Professor McGonagall, on a more personal note let me add that I am aware that closing Hogwarts will be a grave disappointment for you. We have discussed the matter thoroughly and you have convinced quite a few of the School Governors to keep the school open, however, they were more votes in favour of closing the school. Personally I believe it to be the better solution. You yourself have always stressed the seriousness of the danger coming from You-Know-Who's Death Eaters and Professor Dumbledore's death has tragically proven that you were right. Opening Hogwarts for students is too dangerous now. You could not keep the children safe while Severus Snape, who knows the school grounds too well, is still at large._

_Sincerely, _

_Rufus Scrimgeour_

_Minister for Magic_

Slowly, Minerva let the go of the parchment and it fell on the floor. She felt as if someone had kicked her in the stomach.

She had anticipated the Ministry to be fussy about re-opening Hogwarts, but she had never expected them to close Hogwarts altogether – not with all the extra security she had added. It was rather ironic that while Scrimgeour had never before much listened to her warnings about Voldemort, he would now all of a sudden heed her advice and start acting carefully – thereby taking from her the only thing that kept her going.

Minerva got up and looked out of the window. Outside, it was growing darker. Only few lights of the castle shone in the dusk, and the atmosphere was strangely subdued. She leaned out of the window and surveyed the castle grounds around her. A life without teaching at Hogwarts… that was hard to imagine. She had taught for about forty years now. Although she still had her old family estate in the hills close to Edinburgh she considered Hogwarts her home. Hogwarts was where she had lived with Albus Dumbledore. Hogwarts was where he was buried.

Minerva's eyes searched grounds half-hidden in the twilight. Albus's white tomb shone out in the dusk, as though it was a white beacon calling her. Minerva bit her lip in an effort not to sob. She put on a light cloak and went outside. After all, was it so bad to go and visit the place where your love lay buried? She had to talk to someone now, even if that someone could not answer any more.

There by the grave, she hesitated to sit down on the marble step the way she usually did. Minerva ran over the cold stone of the sarcophagus with her fingertips. Not for the first time she thought that the marble was of just the same tone of white as Albus's hair and beard had been, but how different it felt to her touch. The white hardness of the stone always confirmed yet again that Albus truly was dead.

Minerva paced up and down beside the grave. The frustration and sadness she had initially felt after reading Scrimgeour's letter began to turn into anger and irritation. How could the man _dare_ to take the school from her? Hogwarts was Albus's and her lifetime achievement, their first and foremost reason for work. Fighting the dark side had always been a task, a responsibility that came with their great power – but teaching younger wizards had been their passion.

They had been married to the school rather than to each other. Now that Albus was gone, Minerva felt it as her duty to carry on with their mission. It was the last thing she could do for Albus, especially after leaving the Order of the Phoenix. No one was allowed to take Hogwarts from her – and yet Minerva knew that she had no chance to protest. The decision was final. She herself had unwillingly convinced the School Governors that Hogwarts was a too dangerous place for Britain's wizard progeny.

Minerva stood still and stared at the white tomb. She wanted to take her anger out on someone, but there was no one there, and no one she could have talked to. Hagrid was an old friend, but if Minerva told him that Hogwarts would close she knew that she would have to support him rather than hoping he would comfort her. Poppy was away, and the only other two persons Minerva might have talked to about her feelings were gone, too. Albus was dead, and Severus had fled.

"How could you have left me," Minerva hissed at the grave. "You knew I how much I need you. Damn you for leaving me alone…"

Her voice broke, but this time it was not mourning that made her cry. The tears streaming down her face were tears of anger.

Triggered by her irritation with Scrimgeour, all of a sudden the anger she had begun to feel towards Albus Dumbledore had grown into a white-hot fury. She wanted to kick the sarcophagus, to pound it with her fists, to blow it into tiny little bits with a wave of her wand. Minerva needed every last bit of self-control just to stand still and refrain from destroying her lover's tomb.

Albus had left her alone. She knew that he had died according to his own wishes, yet he had not bothered to tell her of his plans. She had loved him, but he had not even left a letter or a will – nothing that would explain his final decision. Now he was gone, and Minerva's world had shattered around her.

She had lost Albus, her love.

She had lost Severus, once her friend, and one of the few who fought Voldemort with equal passion. He understood her, even if he did not know her personal reasons.

She had lost the trust and understanding of her other friends and acquaintances – even Poppy and Hagrid were not quite on her side.

And now she had also lost the last thing that kept her going, her school.

Minerva had lost everything, and it all had happened _only_ because Albus Dumbledore had prepared his death without caring to inform her of his intentions. Minerva wiped her tears away with her sleeve. She clenched her teeth and fixed her furious gaze on the cold marble again.

"Albus Dumbledore," she whispered wrathfully. "I have never been so furious with you, never in my lifetime. You owe me an explanation. You left me alone when you knew I would need you…"

She went closer to the tomb again, almost as if she expected to find an answer there. Finally she touched the white stone once more, this time leaning on it for support. The cold immobile marble would not give her any answers, no matter how hard she kicked it. She would never learn why he had chosen to die, and why he had chosen not to tell her.

Loathing Severus was easy. She knew that she would hate him eternally for what he had done, so blaming him for one more thing was no big deal. After all, he could also have told her of the arrangements for Dumbledore's death.

But being angry with Albus felt wrong. She was furious with him – furious, irritated, confused, and disappointed. Minerva knew that she had the right to feel that way, yet she now almost felt sorry for having spoken her mind only a minute ago.

"Why?" she asked the stone tomb again. "Why Albus, why?"

Her voice grew weaker with each syllable. Deeply confused, she sank down and finally sat on her usual place on the marble step.

Minerva sat with her elbows resting on her knees. She buried her head in her arms and started crying again. She herself did not know if these were tears of anger or of sadness. She only knew that she felt desperately alone.

Her cloak slipped off her shoulders and she felt the chilly night air, but she did not care any more. She felt cold and sick because she had not slept properly in weeks. Slowly, her weakness began to take its toll and she cried herself into a light slumber. Her head was light as if she had been drinking, and there was a bitter taste in her mouth. Maybe it was all the anger and the sadness she had swallowed down in the past weeks.

Minerva was awake enough to realise that she began dreaming, but she was too numb to wake up from her somnolent state. The reality around her and her dreamy visions started interweaving. She felt the cool wind and heard the leaves rustling in the trees. The hard stone she sat on was both uncomfortable and supportive. Somehow, she did not feel all that alone any more. Someone or something was approaching her.

This was Albus's grave. She could feel his presence. If there was any place where she would maybe find her answers, it was here. Almost she could hear Albus's gentle voice talking to her. She imagined his caressing touch, a reassuring hand on her shoulder. His presence was consoling. She knew that it was nothing but a delusion, but wanted to cherish the comfort of his warm hand anyway. Dreamily she smiled and relaxed under his touch.

Suddenly, Minerva awoke with a start. Something was wrong. This dreamy presence had felt too real. She had clearly felt the presence of another person, but when she frantically looked around, there was no one there.

"Lumos!"

The light from her wand did not help. All she saw were ghostly shadows in the shrubs nearby, but she could not make out any living being. Minerva tried to control her breathing and forced herself to calm down. This was an eerie place, after all. No wonder her imagination ran away with her.

She pulled her cloak tighter around herself, and that was when she realised that she had not been dreaming. When she had dozed off, her cloak had slipped down her back and she had not bothered to pull it back up. Now it was wrapped around her shoulders again. The gentle hand she had felt had been real.

Minerva jumped from her seat and pointed the light from her wand in every direction, but she did not find anything unusual. Her heart beat so hard that she could hear the blood rushing in her ears. After taking one last look around, she turned her back to the scene and walked back to the castle, forcing herself not to break into a run. Once she thought that she heard footsteps behind her, but when she stopped, she could not hear them any more.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Minerva was a brave witch. She went back to Albus Dumbledore's grave immediately the next morning. She searched the area twice, once in human shape and once in cat shape. There were some scattered footprints of several people, but it had not rained in weeks and she could not tell how old they were – they might be from Argus Filch or even Poppy Pomfrey, who had big feet and often wore men's boots. Other than that, she found nothing unusual.

Minerva then forced herself to go and tell Hagrid that Hogwarts would not re-open. As she had expected, she had to comfort Hagrid after telling him that the school would close for an uncertain amount of time. But Minerva assured Hagrid that he could go on living at Hogwarts, and that she would come to visit him even though she now thought about moving to her home estate for a while.

After that, she wrote her daily letter to Poppy, mentioning matter-of-factly that Hogwarts would close, and that she had visited the grave once but did fell alright nevertheless. Hopefully Poppy would believe her lies. For the rest of the day, Minerva tried to work on the requested teaching plan for home-schooling parents, but for once, her teacher discipline and strictness failed her. She could not concentrate on her task, and her thoughts kept going back to the events of the previous night.

Minerva skipped dinner – Hagrid was to unhappy to notice anyway – and paced up and down in her office. She felt overly excited and could not even settle down to write a letter to the other staff members. When it grew dark outside, she decided to give up pretending this was a normal day. She knew that she had to return to the white tomb.

It was a quiet late-summer night, pleasant but surprisingly chilly. Minerva's cloak was too light, but she did not want to go back to the castle any more. Once she had walked out of the front doors, a cat-like sense of foreboding had told her that something important was going to happen. Minerva grew calmer. She felt that she was doing the right thing.

There were no clouds in the sky and Minerva stopped by the lake and looked at the stars for a long time. She was not in a hurry any more. The moon was not quite full, but it shone silvery nevertheless and the pale light was reflected in the dark waters of the lake. The scenery was stunningly beautiful.

Minerva finally marched on to the white tomb waiting for her. She felt sad, but surprisingly strong. At the grave, she sat down again and placed her wand next to her on the stone step. She leaned back against the marble and shuddered a little. Slowly, she closed her eyes and allowed her thoughts to wander. Almost as if in a trance, she tried to concentrate on Albus Dumbledore. Maybe she would find her answers that way.

Suddenly, she heard something. Minerva did not dare to move or open her eyes. The sound died away, but when she did not react it started again after a few minutes. She definitely heard a man's careful footsteps on the soft ground, and a cloak brushing lightly over the grass. Minerva allowed herself a tiny sad smile.

She knew this man's gait so well that she would have recognised the sound anywhere. Finally, she knew who haunted Albus Dumbledore's grave.


	6. Our toil shall strive to mend

"It's not the dead ones…" she said aloud, "It's the living who haunt the graves of the dead. At least, show yourself."

Minerva closed her eyes and leaned her head against the cold marble behind her. Patiently she waited in the cool night air if anything would happen.

All was quiet for another few seconds. Then she could again make out the faint noise of the man's steps on the ground. Grass rustled. A dry leaf caught on the hem of long, dragging robes. Someone took in a deep breath. Finally, Minerva heard the soft sound of a light fabric being handled, as if somebody was taking off his cloak.

"Good evening, Severus," she said without opening her eyes.

"Good evening, Minerva," he replied cautiously.

Wearily she opened her eyes and looked at him. He stood about seven feet away from her, his wand drawn, and a silvery Invisibility Cloak clutched in his left hand. His face looked unnaturally gaunt in the moonlight, with dark rings under his eyes and hollow cheeks. Snape's expression was blank, but he pressed his lips together into a thin line. Clearly, he was on his guard.

"You won't need that wand," she informed him evenly. "I do not plan to attack you."

"How did you know that I would not attack you?" he asked while lowering his wand a little.

"You had plenty of opportunities while spying on me in the past few weeks. Instead, you even made sure I would not catch a cold," she said acidly.

"It was a chilly night," he answered evasively, as if that explained everything.

They stared at each other for a few moments. Minerva knew that her gaze was anything but friendly, and in a childish, triumphant way she enjoyed how Snape seemed to have a hard time looking her in the eyes.

"And I didn't mean to spy on you," he protested. "We just happened to be in the same places at the same time… and I could hardly have taken off that cloak in your presence."

"Oh, you could have. I do know you are on our side."

"You know that?"

His eyes narrowed while he mustered her suspiciously. Minerva bit her lip. Talking to him was not easy.

"I do know. I knew when Harry finally showed us his memory of that night. Albus would never have begged an enemy for his life."

"That is true."

"It was so plain, so obvious that you were with the Death Eaters – but if Albus had believed it, he would not have begged. He _knew_ you were not one of them. And he pleaded because he wanted you to do something he could only ask you to do, something he could not order you to go through with."

"You knew him remarkably well," Snape said slowly, a trace of sadness in his voice.

Minerva smiled humourlessly.

"Oh yes, I did," she spat out, almost contemptuous.

"I have known him almost all my life, have worked with him for forty years, have known how to read his every gesture. I did know him _very _well. I even knew he was hiding something from me in the months before he died."

Snape finally pocketed his wand. Carefully he came closer to her, although she shot a look of pure venom in his direction.

He placed his Invisibility Cloak on the marble step next to Minerva, then he cowered down in front of her. Unable to bear this closeness she turned away from him.

"Minerva?" he asked, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Please look at me."

She swallowed hard. She wished for him to go away, to stop acting politely, to simply evaporate into thin air. His presence at this grave was nothing but an enraging insult.

"Minerva?" he demanded again.

"What?" she snapped.

With a sudden movement, she turned back to face him again. She wanted to transform into her cat shape and claw at his face. Oh, maybe she would not even transfigure herself at all and just use her fingernails to scratch his eyes out of their sockets.

"Minerva, I – " he started, as though unsure what to say.

His gentle, subdued behaviour was infuriating. Now he even reached out and took Minerva's hand into both of his. Minerva found that she was so rigid with cold and anger that she could not draw away. And it felt surprisingly good to have someone mourn with her.

"I know that it does not make much of a difference," he said, "but I did not want to do it. When he asked me to, I did say no."

"Oh, I am sure of that," she snarled. "And you are right, it does not make much of a difference. It does not make _any_ difference. You did it all the same."

This time, Snape looked away from her face. His gaze rested on the white tomb behind her. They remained silent for a long time.

She knew that she had hurt him. Minerva looked at the younger man in front of her. It felt good to know that her harsh words had wounded him – but actually it did not feel as good as she would have expected.

Snape did not move. His eyes remained fixed on the plain white sarcophagus behind her back. Although his face did, as usual, not betray much emotion, Minerva thought that he looked tired and worn out. It was obvious that he felt guilty. Why else would he have come to the grave that often? Like Minerva, he was in mourning.

Minerva did not know what to do. She wanted to get up and leave him in his agony, but part of her held her back. Minutes passed while she tried to make up her mind. Her body ached from sitting rigidly on that icy stone step. Shivering with cold, she leaned back once more and closed her eyes again. She did not want him to see the tears she fought back.

Snape had noticed how cold she was. His hands wrapped tighter around her right and rubbed it gently. The touch was almost reassuring. Minerva looked at him again and saw that he deliberately avoided her gaze.

"Severus?" she said, in a much softer voice than before. "It does make a difference. I am sorry I said that."

"No, you are right," he replied.

His voice was heartbreakingly impassionate. Minerva blinked more tears away. He pressed her hand harder.

"You are right. I did it all the same."

"It does make a difference," she repeated, as if talking to a child. "I know you cared about him. I know you must have been desperate, I know you did not want to do it. Why else would you come here almost every night?"

She let go of his hands and pulled her cloak tighter around herself. This conversation was exhausting.

Snape stood up again. He walked a few steps away from her and turned to look into the direction of the castle. He did not answer her question. She could not see his face but assumed that he looked at the high Astronomy Tower.

She quietly watched his silhouette outlined in the beautiful moonlight. The last time she had seen him – in Harry's memory – it had also been night, but the light she had seen him in had been the green light of his Killing Curse. It was deeply disturbing that she now felt almost relieved to have met him again.

"What I do not understand is why you did not tell me before, why he did not tell me…"

Minerva only realised that she had spoken her thoughts when she heard her own voice. Snape turned back around again.

"I could not tell you, Minerva. I wanted to tell you, but the Headmaster ordered me not to. He told me he would take care of the matter. He said he would leave you a message that you would find after his death."

Minerva did not reply. She had known his answer would be vague and evasive, yet she was disappointed. He owed her an answer, but she did not feel strong enough to insist on it. The cold made her lethargic.

After a few seconds she realised that Snape was still staring at her.

"What?" she asked irritably.

Snape hesitated for another second, then he walked towards her and pulled her up resolutely.

"Do get up. You are almost frozen stiff," he said harshly.

He took off his own black cloak and put it around her shoulders. Minerva was so surprised that she did not protest.

"There," he said brusquely. "And now we will walk a little so you warm up again."

"But you need your cloak…" she objected vaguely.

"I can always put this thing on if I get too cold," he shut her up while snatching the Invisibility Cloak from the stone step. "And now let's go."

He strode off in the direction of the Forbidden Forest, where they were least likely to meet anyone. After hesitating a second, she followed him.

They walked in silence for at least ten minutes. First, Minerva almost stumbled over every root sticking out of the ground, but presently she got better. Moving about did her good. She even wrapped Snape's heavy cloak tighter around herself and soon stopped shivering.

"Better?"

"Yes. Thank you."

They walked on, making a big detour to avoid coming close to Hagrid's hut. Minerva felt her strength and alertness slowly come back to her.

"Severus?" she suddenly asked. "I did mean what I said before. Why did you not tell me about your plan?"

"And I did answer. It was the Headmaster's plan, not mine. I thought it best to let him deal with it."

"That's not quite true, I think."

"What do you mean to imply?"

"I thought we were – well, friends."

She stopped and grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn around to her.

"You must have realised what a shock this would be to me. Why did you not warn me?"

"Because the Headmaster told me not to. Believe me, I would have preferred if the Order had know of this."

"I am not talking about the Order – that many people knowing, that would have been a security risk. I am talking about me only."

Minerva knew that it was childish to insist on answers, but with her new-found strength, she felt that this might be her only chance ever to learn to what decisions the two men had come. She was desperate for any information Snape might be able to provide on Dumbledore's choices.

Snape's expression was not friendly, but she thought she detected a trace of pity in his eyes – which only made her more angry.

"Minerva," he said slowly. "I think we both know the answer to that. Don't make me say it. You know why he did not dare to tell you."

"No, I do not know," she said stubbornly.

Snape hesitated for a second before he replied. His face was set when he finally answered her.

"Because you loved him," he said cruelly.

"You would not have accepted that he was about to die. Look at you now – your grief has overwhelmed you to a point where your old self is hardly recognisable any more. If you had known he was planning his death, you could not have pretended that everything was as usual, and your behaviour would have endangered his whole plan. That is why he did not tell you, and why he forbid me to tell you."

Minerva felt as though he had slapped her in the face.

"How dare you…" she hissed.

"I dare because it is true," he said quietly. "I did not like it, Minerva. But you know that I did always follow his orders."

"But –"

Minerva broke off. Words failed her. She hated Snape, hated him for being so loyal to Dumbledore, for being so damn right about what he had said and done. He had murdered the love of her life, and all she could do was admit that he had always been on their side, that he had been Dumbledore's man trough and through, and that he had been right to follow his orders.

It was not fair. She hated him all the more because there was no reason to hate him. Trembling from head to toe, Minerva gasped for air. Again she had to fight her tears back. Snape's face showed nothing but compassion. He slowly turned away from her to allow her some privacy, and this last act of kindness was too much to bear.

She flung herself at him, crying with misery and rage. Back in her head Minerva knew that it was not Snape she was furious with, but Dumbledore. But it was Snape who was there standing in front of her and who did nothing to defend himself. All use of magic was forgotten. Minerva had not even thought of drawing her wand. She tore at the front of Snape's robes and pounded his chest with her fists. All she wanted to do was hurt him, but with each blow, she felt guiltier about it and cried harder.

Snape stood still, receiving her blows quietly as though he thought he deserved them. Only after a minute or so he raised his arms and held her carefully, drawing the hysterical woman closer. Minerva collapsed against his chest and cried like a child. He muttered something she did not understand, but his voice was soothing. It was so unfair that _he_ of all people should be the only one who could truly understand her grief and comfort her.

It felt so good to be held like this, to be able to cry freely. And it felt so wrong.

"Don't touch me," she said without letting go.

"I am sorry – "

He immediately released her and took one step back.

"It's alright; I know you meant well. It's just that you – and I – I should not seek comfort from you –"

"I know it is inappropriate," he said earnestly. "The murderer comforting the one who grieves most."

"Severus, every time I look at you I think of him. I – I know you did not want to do it. But I so hate you for it," she explained helplessly.

"I understand," he said, almost sounding a little sad.

"I know it is unfair, but – "

"But you can't help feeling so. Minerva, I do understand. I would not expect anything else from you. You loved him. And he loved you."

They exchanged another helpless look. Minerva was embarrassed about her emotional outbreak and started walking again. At least that gave her something to do, and she did not have to look at Snape all the time. Without a special destination, they ventured deeper into the Forbidden Forest.

"I didn't know that you – knew this. To that extend," she said after a while.

"Minerva – " he sighed, "Do remember, we were friends of a sort. And the Headmaster was my friend. It was not that hard to work out that you loved each other."

She nodded and blushed a little.

"I should not be that surprised," she mumbled. "Not too long ago I overheard Arthur and Molly speculating about this – it seems many knew that Albus and I had a secret relationship."

"Many thought so," Snape agreed. "But I think that was speculation mostly. I don't think a lot of them actually knew."

"Did Albus – did he know that you knew about us?"

"Yes. When he ordered me to… you know, when he told me to do it I asked him whether you knew of this plan. In fact I told him I did not think it fair not to tell you."

Minerva smiled. Snape had been a true friend once.

"He asked me why I wanted to tell you, and then I told him that I suspected the two of you to be a couple. He confirmed that, and told me to stay out of it."

Minerva nodded. She could picture the scene very well. Albus would not have lied to Severus, but it had always been their agreement to keep their relationship secret and not to let other people get involved in their personal matters.

"So what now?" Snape deliberately changed the subject. "What do we do now?"

"I don't know," Minerva replied. "Do you have any suggestions?"

"I suppose I could continue to give you information on the Dark Lord's activities – Potter might need that…"

"He would not listen to anything you or I say."

Snape sighed.

"The precious little brat ought to have learned by now to listen to the members of the Order."

"That he might, but he would not listen to me. Nor would anyone else. I am not a member of the Order any more."

"What?!"

Snape stopped dead again and stared at her incredulously.

"I thought you were their new leader."

"If they have a new leader, it might be Mad-Eye. I don't know. You see, I made the mistake of saying that I do not believe you to be a traitor. I was lucky they did not have me locked up in St Mungo's right away."

"Of course, that is hard to believe… but if you figured it out..."

"I am considered, as Arthur put it so neatly, 'mistaken in my mind'. The think me mad with grief."

"Every one of them?"

"Well… Hagrid is undecided whether to believe me mad or not, and Poppy thinks that I simply suffer from shock and hallucinations. Miss Granger apparently also is not fully convinced of my state as a mental patient. But the rest think me insane, I am afraid."

"That can't be true."

Snape shook his head disbelievingly. Minerva shrugged.

"And if you want another piece of bad news, Hogwarts will not re-open."

"The reason being…?"

"That one Death Eater at large is a former teacher, who knows the secret entrances to Hogwarts and might come back."

"Finally, the Ministry has decided to be cautious," Snape said dryly.

They walked on and soon returned to the edge of the Forbidden Forest not too far away from Hagrid's hut. No light shone through the windows.

"Think Hagrid is asleep?" Snape asked.

"Most likely. I comforted him with a large amount of brandy this afternoon when I told him Hogwarts would close."

Snape made a sound as though suppressing a small laugh.

"I will walk you back to the castle then."

"You don't need to. The grounds are safe."

"Maybe, but you are still wearing my cloak and on such a cold night, it would be impolite to take it from a lady."

Minerva smiled wearily. This was typical for Severus Snape, her friend. He would show politeness and understanding in those moments when one would expect it least. Together, they walked to the large front doors. There, Minerva took off Snape's black cloak and gave it back to him.

"Thank you," she said earnestly, knowing that he knew she was talking about more than just a warm garment.

He only nodded, and wrapped himself in the cloak. Then he looked at her again and studied her face.

"So you are all alone."

Snape's voice betrayed pity again, but this time it did not make Minerva angry. On the contrary, it felt good to have someone finally understand her situation. He would know, he was all alone himself.

"I have you," she said earnestly, fully aware of the absurdness of the situation.

Snape knitted his brow.

"I am the only one who knows that you are no Death Eater. And you are the only one who knows that I am not insane."

"That is true," he said hesitatingly.

"Not much to go with," Minerva said wryly.

"But better than nothing."

"Maybe.." Minerva wondered, "maybe this will be of some help in the future."

"We will see. I shall contact you whenever I learn something that could be of use – that is, if you want me to."

"Yes," she sighed. "Yes, I think I would like that."

"I will go, then."

Snape unfolded his Invisibility Cloak and started to put it on.

"Good night, Minerva," he said before he disappeared entirely.

"Good night, Severus," she replied.

Then she opened the front doors and heard his steps hurrying away.

"Good night, Severus," she whispered again into the dark night. "I do not know if I can ever entirely forgive you, but I know that you are my friend."

Minerva felt much stronger when she walked back to her rooms. The healing process had finally begun.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_A/N: I know this ending is a bit of a cliffhanger, but hey – I do want you to read the next story in the Trilogy._

_And yes, the chapter title is a quote from the prologue of Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet". The way Slytherins and Gryffindors are supposed to hate each other has always reminded me of the Capulet/Montague feud._

_In the next fic, you will read what happens while the Trio searches for the Horcruxes, how Minerva and Severus try to sabotage Voldemort's plans, and how (un)successful they are. We need some plot action now, and I promise if you are a connoisseur of dark, violent, angsty fics – you will not be disappointed._

_But: JKR's 'Deathly Hallows" is due to be published in less than one week. Folks, I know none of us will be much interested in fanfiction for a while. So while I swear I will continue the trilogy, I cannot tell you when the second and third story will be published. If you're interested, maybe you should add me to your author alert list._

_Happy reading 'Deathly Hallows' everyone! (And don't forget to feed other authors, too – I still crave reviews….)_


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